


His Roses Bloom

by tommys



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommys/pseuds/tommys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's possible that Thomas loves to fall in love with other people's love. It's possible that Thomas is merely a hopeless romantic who likes hearing people's stories about meeting their soulmates. It's also possible —<i> possible</i> — that Thomas may have accidentally fallen in love with someone who's not his soulmate. It's possible.</p><p>—</p><p>AU in which Teresa's soulmate surprises everybody, Minho is explicitly obsessed with dancing to ridiculous pop songs in the bath, Thomas' supposed soulmate doesn't exist, and Newt is the new cute neighbour who moved in next door. No one expects anything to go wrong. Except everything does when love is thrown into the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. La Vie En Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this idea attacked me a few months ago, and I thought I'd share it because I'm sort of in love with the plot. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'll update, like, perhaps every three days if I can. Bear with me if it takes a week or so, though. I'm busy with school and such. 
> 
> Also, you can contact me through [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/captgaliy) and [Tumblr](http://www.newtmos.tumblr.com). Swing by so we can gush over our OTPs (ahem, Newt and Thomas)!
> 
> Before anything though, I'd like to publicly thank my rabbit, Bonnie, for never hopping away whenever I'd read my work aloud to her for revision. You deserve the world, my tiny fluffball.
> 
>  **Warning:** It's complete and utter unadulterated fluff. Approach with caution.

 

 

 

_**“I got that coffee shop love;** _

_**makes me espresso many feelings.”** _

**— Ryan Higa**

 

 

 Thomas loved Teresa. He really did. But last night, she might have started to irritate him to the point he would have shoved a pillow in her mouth to shut her up from talking if she weren’t his best friend.

 Because Teresa kept him up all night, Thomas was drifting off at work in the morning. Sometimes he really questioned why he had Teresa as a best friend and a roommate. As if having her around in the apartment wasn’t enough already.

 Thomas’s head was starting to drop until a horrendously loud voice disturbed his peace. “Mornin’, dickheaaaad!” the voice yelled as they entered the cafe, piercing through every layer of quietness.

 “Ugh,” Thomas groaned in reply. “Min, what do you want?” He looked up and turned to look at the asian boy, who had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. The brunet punched himself internally for he knew he wasn’t going to be getting any rest anytime soon.

 Minho snorted, going behind the counter where Thomas was stood. “What got your panties in a twist?”

 Thomas let out a deep breath. “It’s Teresa. She kept me up all night. Couldn’t get any sleep at all.”  He huffed as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

 Tilting his head, Minho looked confused for a mere second before realisation washed over him. “Oh! It’s today, yeah?” He looked at Thomas with an eyebrow raised as he grabbed an apron, tying it around his waist. “Her soulmate clock counts down to today?”

 “Mhm,” Thomas confirmed as he massaged his temples, trying to ease the pounding in his head. “It was all she could talk about.”

 Minho only shrugged. “Well, of course it was; it’s her soulmate after all. I wouldn’t blame her,” he said. Minho grabbed a white towel that was just lying around as he started to wipe the counter clean for coming customers.

 Thomas laughed dryly. “Would you have blamed her if she kept you up until God knows what time rehearsing about what to say when she meets her soulmate?” He arched an eyebrow.

 Minho stopped wiping the counter and looked at Thomas wistfully. “You know what you need, my little Tomkin?” Thomas shot him a dangerous glare at the use of the nickname, but Minho only slung an arm over his shoulder. “You —” Minho jabbed at his chest. “— need a break.”

 Thomas scrunched up his face before his best friend continued speaking. “And that’s why you’re coming to my party tomorrow night. You didn’t forget, did you?”

 “‘Course I remember.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “You never shut up about your awesome party and how it’s going to be awesome.”

 Minho grinned. “Cool. You’re coming then?”

 Thomas tapped a finger on his chin, feigning being thoughtful. “That depends, really. If you’re going to be there, I don’t think I would want to go,” he said.

 It was only a matter of seconds before a white towel hit him on the face. “Dick,” the other boy commented with a laugh. “Plus, it’s my party. The party’ll suck without the host.” Minho jokingly scrunched up his face at Thomas.

 Thomas snorted before he relaxed a bit. “Eh, well. You know I would love to be there, but I’m really beat, man,” he said, thinking of how much he’d really rather be sleeping. “Maybe next time?”

 “Oh, come on!” Minho pouted, leaning towards the brunet. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

 Thomas shoved him on the chest lightly. “Stop with the puppy eyes. You’re a grown up. It’s creepy.” Minho let out a snort.

 “So…,” Minho trailed off.

 Thomas had almost forgotten to answer the asian about the party. Except he didn’t know how to. Thomas only looked at him with an unsure expression.

 “I cross my heart it’ll be really fun,” Minho assured sternly, making a cross over his chest.

 Thomas fought back the urge to roll his eyes again. It was a bad habit. “Fine. You owe me big time, though.” He snatched the white towel from Minho’s hand. “You and Teresa both actually,” he pointed out while he started finishing Minho’s job of wiping the counter. He knew well customers were going to start entering in a matter of time.

 On most occasions, Thomas didn’t like customers who came to The Glade — the cafe he was currently working in — in the morning. They were ridiculously grumpy, sometimes rude, and worst of all… dull. Workers at The Glade started to call them Grievers. There would be the usual ‘Where’s my coffee?! I’ve been here forever!’ (You’ve literally only been here for ten minutes.) and sometimes ‘You’re causing me to be late for work, you snail. I’m going to report you if you don’t hurry up!’ (I’m sure you are.)

 Thomas almost winced as the thought.

 Of course, Thomas understood why Grievers acted the way they did. No one wants to be up at six in the morning. As dorky as it sounded, he was a huge believer of respect (and he also just really disliked rude people). Thomas liked to start days off with a bright smile and positivity. However, with the sleep he didn’t get the night before, he might be able to tolerate them for once as he felt like he was turning into a Griever himself.

 Thomas’s thoughts were interrupted when the bell at the top of the cafe’s door chimed, indicating that someone had entered. He straightened his posture, preparing himself to come face-to-face with a Griever.

 “G’morning, twerps!”

 And with that, Thomas automatically returned to his sluggish posture as he looked to see Teresa smiling. He couldn’t help but groan.

 “What’s up with him?” Teresa asked Minho, jerking a thumb towards Thomas. Teresa sat down on one of the stools just where the counter was.

 “He’s going nuts with the lack of sleep apparently,” Minho said as he tapped his head.

 Thomas made sure to send Minho a death glare before he shoved the white towel where no one would see; Teresa snorted.

 Minho returned Thomas’ glare with a cheeky grin. “Love you, Tomkin,” he said in a disgustingly sweet voice.

 Not wanting to take it any further, Thomas ignored the comment and rolled his eyes in reply before waving him off.

 “Anyway.” Teresa propped an elbow on the counter. “Could you flash me a quick cup of coffee, please?” she asked, turning to Thomas. “You’re not the only one who didn’t get much sleep last night.”

 Thomas snorted as he made his way to brew coffee. “I know. I was with you in case you forgot.” The smell of coffee started to float around the cafe. Thomas always liked the smell of coffee; it was nice, almost addicting.

 “Yeah, yeah.” Teresa waved a hand. “Oh, and make sure to make it black. I need to look a little more alive today. Wouldn’t want my soulmate to think I’m some sort of — what do you call those again?” She tilted her head to the side.

 “Grievers!” Minho piped in.

 Teresa pointed at Minho. “Yep,” Teresa said. “That exactly.”

 Minho walked out of the counter and sat down on the stool next to Teresa. “Speaking of soulmates, what is your clock down at?”

 Thomas looked up at Teresa expectantly, who gave her wrist a quick glance. “A couple of hours.” She breathed nervously. “God, I’m actually so nervous, but excited nonetheless, you know?”

 Minho slapped her back lightly for encouragement. “You’ll be fine, Tes. You’re one of the coolest people I know. You’ll kill it!” he cried out enthusiastically before he realised what he had just said. “Not literally, though. Like. Don’t kill your soulmate,” he added seriously.

 Teresa laughed at the boy. “Thank you. You’re the best. I’m just a tad bit nervous.” She shrugged as if it was nothing. “That’s all.”

 Thomas walked over to where his best friends were standing with a cup of black coffee in his hands. “Well, don’t be nervous. Min’s right. You’ll kill it.” Minho flipped Thomas off. “Anyway, here’s your coffee. I added a dose of cocoa powder in there, by the way. To give you a little boost.” Thomas slid the cup across the counter towards the dark-haired girl before it skidded to a stop just right in front of her.

 Teresa grabbed the cup. “Thanks, Tom.” She smiled as she brought the warm container to her mouth, but paused before her lips could meet the cup. She stared at it with a look of mock suspicion.

 Thomas raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 “Is there milk in this?” Teresa asked as if she was testing their friendship. But of course, with something like that, Thomas would get away with it without any trouble.

 “Skimmed,” he answered easily.

 “Sugar?”

 “Two cubes.”

 “And cinnamon?”

 “A pinch and a half.”

 Teresa flashed Thomas a grin. “You know me so well,” she said as she took a sip from her cup. Thomas replied with a salute.

 Minho, who had been watching the two converse as if he was in a tennis match, shook his head and groaned. He dropped his head on his hands. “You both are fucking insane,” he grumbled. “You two know that, right?” He turned to his best friends.

 Thomas grinned toothily at the boy. “You’re part of this squad too, Min,” he reminded him. “Call us insane—” He pointed at himself and Teresa. “—then you’re insane as well.”

 Teresa nodded with a knowing smirk before she exchanged high fives with the brunet.

 Minho scrunched up his nose. “You know, I feel like we’re going to scare your soulmate off.”

 Thomas plopped his elbows on the counter and leaned on it, humming in agreement. “That’s probably true, actually,” he said before he turned to Minho. “Might even do it on purpose, right Min?” Thomas bit the inside of his cheeks to keep the urge to laugh inside.

 “You betcha.” Minho winked at him before he had a sudden idea. “Hey, maybe we should invite him to the party.” He shrugged.

 The next thing Thomas knew, Teresa was shooting daggers at the asian. “And what’s with the sudden idea?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “I swear to God I’ll personally cut both of your legs off if you idiots do anything to scare him off,” she threatened. “With my nail file.”

 Thomas couldn’t help it; he choked on a laugh. “Oh my God, she’s onto you.”

 Minho put a hand over his chest, acting as if he’d been offended.  “I’m a lovely friend. I would never do something as extreme as scaring your soulmate off!” he opposed. All Thomas could do was snicker while Teresa rolled her eyes.

 “Seriously though. Invite him to the party,” Minho said once the atmosphere was more relaxed. “Introduce him to the group.”

 Thomas nodded. “Yeah, he’s right, actually. We’ve got quite a large group,” he added. “Maybe by bringing him to the party, he could get to know what sort of people we hang out with, you know? Could be interesting,” he said as he shifted to adjust his apron.

 Teresa examined both of their faces; looking for any trace of jokes. “Well…” she trailed off. “I guess that could happen.” She sighed, giving in. Thomas and Minho exchanged grins but that was cut short when Teresa spoke up again. “Just make sure you both are in your best behaviour. I mean it.” She fixed a hard gaze on her face.

 Minho and Thomas replied in sync. “Yes, captain.”

 Teresa dismissed the two with a wave of a hand before she wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee to warm her hands. “Oh, right. That reminds me… Minho, aren’t you going to get some stuff for the party soon?”

 “Yeah,” Minho confirmed with a nod. “Thomas is coming with me.”

 Thomas’s attention snapped to the asian. “Wait, what?” he asked. He couldn't recall anything about what Teresa had just said.

 Teresa snorted. “You two work that out. I don’t want to be here when you both bicker about buying party stuff again.” She shook her head. Thomas shot her a look, which she gleefully ignored. “Anyway, could you get a gift basket? Just a small one will do,” she added before she took a sip from her coffee again.

 Minho looked impressed. “Tes, you haven’t even met the man yet and you’re already getting him stuff?” He nodded as if to show approval. “Nice.”

 Thomas rolled his eyes at Minho, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to give him a light smack on the head. Just light. “I normally don’t agree with… this thing.” He jerked a thumb towards Minho. The asian leaned back, feigning hurt. “But yeah, isn’t it a bit too soon?”

 It was silent for a matter of seconds. Teresa looked between Minho and Thomas with a blank expression plastered on her face before she let out a tired huff. “Oh God…” she said before she started massaging her temples. “Didn’t you see the boxes, Tom?”

 Thomas scrunched up his face. Again, another bad habit. He was starting to think he should make a list of them, really, and name it List of Things You Should Really Avoid Doing. “Boxes?”

 “Yes, dumbass. Right across our apartment?” she asked slowly, seeing if she could ring a bell in Thomas’s mind. However, Thomas’s confused look clearly stated that he hadn’t seen anything. “Someone moved across our apartment, Tom,” she said finally with an eyebrow raised that said ‘How could you have missed it?’.

 Thomas was taken aback. He scratched the back of his neck before replying, “Really? Must have missed them then.” Teresa almost hit him for looking so sorry over a little thing. “I was just really tired, I guess,” he said but mostly to himself as if he was in disbelief for missing the boxes.

 But before Teresa could tell him it didn’t matter, Minho interrupted her. “Aw, that sucks!” he whined, a pout landing on his lips.

 Thomas and Teresa both deadpanned him at the same time. “You’re only saying that because you always crash in our place to play ridiculously loud songs. I’m surprised you’re doing fine with hearing us,” Teresa said dryly.

 “Uptown Funk,” Thomas added with a look of disbelief. “Really, Min? Really?”

 Minho grinned toothily at his best friends. “You guys love me, though.” He blew a kiss to both of them as Thomas broke into a small laugh, shoving his face away with a hand.

 “Sadly.” Teresa snorted. “Anyway, could you go get that gift basket for me?” she asked. “For me and Tom actually since we share the apartment.” She glanced at Thomas when she mentioned him.

 Thomas nodded. He didn’t think it was a bad idea. “Yeah, sure. I don’t see why we need to, though.”

 “Please, Tom. If you were the one who had seen the boxes first, you’d be carrying tens of thousands of gift baskets right now.” Teresa rolled her eyes as Minho snickered in agreement.

 “I’m not always sociable,” Thomas said in defence. Although, he didn’t really see why he needed to.

 “Keep telling yourself that, love,” the girl said easily. “Anyway, please do get a gift basket. I have to head off now,” she announced. Teresa glanced at the clock just behind the counter as she checked the time. “I still have to work on the dress back at Uni.”

 Minho looked amused. “Don’t you ever get tired of knitting and designing? Sounds like so much work.” His face scrunched up at the mention of work. Effort was never really his cup of tea.

 “Not when you’re a student who’s taking a fashion degree, Minho.” She rolled her eyes with a knowing smile as she fluffed her dark hair a bit and fixed it in place.

 Thomas raised an eyebrow at Teresa for a moment. “Wait, you’re meeting your soulmate today, right?”

 Teresa nodded as she slid off the stool she had been sitting on. “Yep,” she confirmed. “But it so happens to be that the time my countdown hits zero, I’m going to be in the studio working on the costumes the drama department asked for,” she said, unbothered.

 Minho got off the stool he was sitting on as well; thinking that it wasn’t probably long before customers started coming in. “Oh, that sucks,” Minho commented. “Meeting your soulmate in campus?  How romantic.” He sighed dreamily, mocking Teresa.

 Teresa didn’t have to think twice when she walked over where Minho was stood and gave him a deserved smack on his head. “Watch it,” she warned. “Plus, I don’t think it sucks. At least I’m going to be meeting him in a place where I actually look like I’m doing something good with my life,” she said, almost flinching at how bad it sounded once the words left her lips.

 Thomas bubbled in laughter. “That statement is the final confirmation that this so-called squad is just composed of losers.” He shook his head with a small smile lingering on his lips.

 Teresa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it is,” she replied. The corners of her mouth twitching upwards didn’t go unnoticed, though.

 Minho rubbed the back of his head where Teresa had just hit him. “Could have been a little more gentle, Tes. I’m almost convinced you’re Frankenstein, you monster,” he muttered under his breath.

 “Scientist,” Thomas interjected immediately as he corrected Minho. “Frankenstein is the mad scientist.”

 Teresa looked between Minho and Thomas intently as if she was observing them. “I don’t remember why I love both of you but I do.” She shook her head to mock disappointment. Thomas and Minho exchanged grins as Teresa waved her hand. “Whatever. I’m going to go now. Bye, kids,” she said her farewell as she gave Thomas and Minho one last hug. And once she was done with the hugging, she let out a deep breath; her nerves slowly kicking in. She knew that once she stepped out of the cafe, she was going to be one step closer to meeting her soulmate.

 Despite how tired Teresa had just made Thomas the night before, Thomas couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with happiness for his best friend. She had been waiting for so long for it. She truly deserves it, Thomas thought. He smiled at her and gave her two thumbs up for encouragement. “Kill it, Tes!”

 Thomas thought he was going to earn a smack from Minho, but he only smiled at Teresa too. “Yeah, kill it.” Minho grinned. “Oh, and make sure to swing by the cafe with him later. Thomas and I will be right here.”

 “Okay, yeah. I think that’ll be nice, actually,” she responded before laughing. “Plus, thanks for the advice. I’ll definitely kill it.” She waved goodbye to her two friends as she stepped out of the cafe, the bell on top of the door chiming as she did so.

 Once Teresa had left, Minho walked behind the counter and turned to Thomas. “What time are you having your break today, by the way? Maybe we can head over to the supermarket then.”

 Thomas stayed silent for a second as he tried to recall his schedule. His face dropped. “It’s Monday today,” he said in disappointment. “I don’t usually have breaks on Monday because it’s often our busiest day. Well, unless I’m lucky you know.” He shrugged as he walked to where the muffins were displayed, and grabbed one for himself.

 “Really?” Minho tilted his head slightly. “Then why do I have breaks on Mondays?”

 Thomas, who was chewing on his muffin, snorted. “Because I’m much more efficient than you are?” he guessed jokingly with his mouth full. Bingo. Another habit to add in the list.

 But once the words left Thomas’ lips, Minho looked proper offended. The brunet was about to apologise for what he had just said when Minho spoke, “That’s not fair.” He pouted, frowning in the process.

 Both Thomas and Minho jumped when a voice that belonged to neither of them spoke. “Actually, it’s because both of you never concentrate well when you’re together in the same room,” they said as the bell jingled.

 Thomas and Minho looked up to see their boss walking in the cafe with Frypan, who was probably the best baker in their small town.

 “Mornin’, Jorge. Mornin’, Fry.” Minho waved a hand as he greeted them. He stepped aside and made space for Frypan to make his way behind the counter.

 Frypan was about to greet Minho back with a smile until his eyes landed on Thomas, who had a mouthful of one of the chocolate muffins he had baked the night before. Thomas visibly gulped. “Thomas.” Frypan narrowed his eyes as Minho tried his very best not to burst into laughter. “Did you take that from the fresh batch of pastries?”

 Thomas stood frozen on the floor. He slowly licked his lips to hide the crumbs. Although, it wasn’t a really pretty idea since there was still a half-eaten muffin sitting on the palm of his hand. “Uh… no?” he said sheepishly.

 Frypan walked over to where Thomas was stood and grabbed the muffin from the brunet’s hand. He shook his head. “Thomas, you’ve got to stop doing that. This is strike two,” he threatened. “Strike three and you’re out.”

 Jorge reacted to the scene with only a short snort. “Ah well, hermanos. I will be back later to check on you children. Try to do your best today, alright?” He looked at them expectantly.

 The three of them nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

 A smile broke onto the man’s face. “Good,” he said. “Harriet and Aris will be here some time soon, I think. Just make sure you’re all ready to greet the customers.” He nodded mostly to himself.

 “Grievers,” Minho blurted.

 Jorge turned to Minho with a confused look. Minho wasn’t going to lie; he was a bit intimidated by the old man. He fidgeted uncomfortably, almost regretting that he had spoken up in the first place. “The, uh. The customers. We call them Grievers.” Thomas had to hide his snicker with a fake cough as he watched Minho turn into a baby shade of pink.

 Jorge took a step towards Minho with his eyes narrowed. He examined the asian for a second, making Minho more uncomfortable than ever. It wasn’t long before the man shook his head. “You kids with your imaginations,” he muttered under his breath before he disappeared into his office.

 Once Jorge was out of sight, Minho visibly relaxed. He let out a sigh of relief. “That old man scares me sometimes.”

 Thomas laughed as he walked over to the thermostat to adjust the temperature a bit. He liked it warm, really. “Maybe you shouldn’t have blurted that out in the first place then,” he said with his back turned to Minho as he carefully turned the thermostat. “Don’t worry though. Man’s really kind. He won’t do anything.” He stepped back once he was satisfied with the temperature.

 Frypan nodded in agreement as he stepped around Minho to grab his apron and tied it around his waist. “That’s true…” he trailed off. Frypan looked like he was in deep thought. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him snap. Ever.”

 Minho looked up at Frypan. “Oh, that reminds me. Is it alright if you cover Thomas’ shift this afternoon for a bit?” he asked.

 The baker washed his hands in the small sink nearby as he raised an eyebrow at Minho. “You’re asking me to cover the shift of the idiot who always eats my muffins in the morning and tries to convince me he hadn’t eaten anything despite the visible crumbs on his face?” he asked.

 Minho snorted as Thomas quickly brought a hand to his mouth and wiped away whatever crumbs there were. “I do not have crumbs on my face!” Thomas cried out.

 “Gotcha.” Frypan grinned triumphantly.

 Minho rolled his eyes at his best friend before turning his attention back to Frypan, who was drying his hands with a towel. “Please? We’re going to the supermarket later to get stuff for the party,” Minho filled him in.

 “Oh. The one you’re holding not too long from now, yeah?” Frypan recalled.

 Minho grinned and nodded in confirmation. “Yep. And I’ll need Tomkin here to buy the groceries with me.”

 Frypan leaned on the counter and thought about it for a second. “Fine.” He waved his hand.  “But,” he continued just as Minho was about to fist bump the air, “in one condition.”

 Minho studied the baker for a moment. “What is it?”

 From the back, Thomas groaned loudly. “I think I know what it is.” He walked back to where Minho and Frypan were stood. “Seriously, Fry. It was just once!”

 “Twice, actually.”

 Minho turned to Thomas in confusion. “I don’t get it. What is it?” he asked the brunet, who looked just the slightest offended.

 Frypan smirked. “Tell him.”

 Thomas rolled his eyes before finally letting Minho in on the secret condition. “He doesn’t want me to eat his muffins anymore,” he deadpanned.

 And almost immediately, both Frypan and Thomas got an earful. “That’s easy, man!” Minho exclaimed a little too loud.

 “Right?” Frypan walked over to the oven with a smile to turn it on, giving it time to heat before he could start baking.

 It wasn’t long before the cafe was starting to smell of warm pastry with a dash of coffee. Thomas always thought that it wouldn’t be a surprise if people came to The Glade just to have a sniff of the aroma.

 Thomas gave up. “Yeah, alright. I won’t take your muffins again,” he promised. “It’s not my fault they’re good, though!”

 Minho nodded as Frypan grinned. “S’alright. I’ll cover your shift this afternoon,” he said as he started kneading the paste. “Just don’t take too long. I doubt I’ll last long when the school kids arrive.” He sounded almost mortified that Thomas chuckled.

 Minho immediately jumped up from his seat and crashed Frypan with a big hug. “Thank you!” the asian shrieked.

 The corner of Thomas’ lips twitched upwards as he watched the scene unfolding before him in amusement. Frypan almost fell, and laughed about it. “Whatever, Minho. Just get off me now. I think I see a Griever approaching the cafe.”

****  
  



	2. Il A Faim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter two! The beginning's sort of angsty, for which I'm sorry. Maybe.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the update. I'm currently revising the next chapter and I can't wait to upload it. Again, you can find me through [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/captgaliy) or [Tumblr](http://www.newtmos.tumblr.com) in case you want to come over and say hi (please do, I'm a lonely child).
> 
> That's it for now I suppose. Enjoy!

 Even though Thomas knew he shouldn’t have done it, he did. And to see nothing that had changed since the last time he’d checked, he had to force himself to ignore the familiar feeling of hurt that was pounding against his chest.

 Just before Minho called for him to leave the cafe so that they could go grocery shopping for the party, Thomas carefully slid his way into the storage room where all the ingredients were kept in. He made sure no one followed him, of course. They’d do nothing but feel bad for him, and that was something Thomas didn’t really want.

 He’d been itching to check the countdown on his wrist since Teresa walked in the cafe that morning. It took almost all self control not to pull up his sleeve right in front of his best friends. But now that he was alone, he could finally check it.

 ‘ _Just a peek wouldn’t do any harm,_ ’ Thomas thought.

 Once he made sure that no one was going to enter the storage room any time soon, he swallowed a churning feeling of dread he’d always feel whenever he was about to check what was imprinted on his wrist.

 Slowly, he started to pull up the sleeve of his wooly sweater. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, really. Part of him knew that maybe he did. But he’d be straight up lying to himself if he tried to make himself believe that it was okay if it hadn’t changed.

 As the cold air smoothly met the surface of Thomas’s skin, he reluctantly looked down to see what the countdown on his wrist read. And just like that, he felt as if someone had kicked him in the guts. Hard.

 It was blank.

 There was no black ink of some sort marked on his skin that was supposed to count down and tell him when he’d be meeting his own soulmate. He knew very well that it was silly to be upset over a little countdown. Childish even. But for someone who had been alone without his family in a town he hadn’t been to before made him feel somewhat lonely.

 It was normal, he guessed. Homesickness was inevitable for those who wanted to seek adventure and independence. He’d gotten used to it. The loneliness. But the mere fact that his blank wrist rubbed it in his face that he was never meeting his soulmate did nothing to him but make him feel even lonelier.

 Thomas jumped, completely caught off guard, when he heard Minho call out his name. “Thomas? You in there buddy?” He heard Minho’s footsteps getting louder as he approached the storage room. “We gotta leave so that we can get back just before it gets busy ‘round here.”

 And right before Minho could even think about entering the storage room, the brunet cleared his throat and replied. “Hey, yeah. I’m right here. I was just looking for something,” he yelled through the wooden door. “I’ll be - I’ll be right out.”

 “Oh, okay. I’ll just meet you right outta the cafe then,” Minho responded. When Thomas heard his best friend’s footsteps again, this time it was headed off to the opposite direction. He sighed to himself in relief.

 Deciding that it was best not to stay any longer, Thomas quickly pulled down his sleeve. He glanced at the reflection of himself in the blurry metal shelves in the storage room and told himself to breath slowly and calm down.

 If he was being honest, he wanted to cry. Just a little bit. But instead of doing that, he managed to pull himself together and put a bright smile on his face before walking out of the storage room.

 On most occasions, it would have been difficult for Thomas to hide his feelings just like that. But it wasn’t difficult anymore because it happened so often that he got used to it. Not completely. He was getting there, though.

  *  *  *    

  Minho cracked his fingers and stretched his arms; he did both with a very serious look plastered on his face. He genuinely looked so ridiculous that Thomas swore he was _this_ close to snorting at his best friend’s face.

 “Let’s do this,” Minho declared the beginning of their shopping fiasco before stepping into the large supermarket built before them.

 Thomas rolled his eyes in amusement as he strolled beside the other boy. “So... what are we going to get?” He looked around the many aisles of goods lined up one after another. He slid his hands into his pockets as he followed Minho’s lead, who was walking to God knows which aisle.

 Minho didn’t look at Thomas when he replied. His gaze was fixed on his surroundings. He was probably too transfixed with the display of food, Thomas thought. Typical Minho. “Well, we’ll need the usual,” Minho said as he kept walking. “Some snacks, cups, and beer. Oh, and maybe a sandwich or two.”

 Thomas noticed that they were approaching the aisle with bags of chips. He raised an eyebrow at Minho. “Sandwiches?” he questioned. “Can’t we just make them tomorrow? It’ll probably be better that way too since we can, you know, prevent it from being spoilt.”

  Minho stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Thomas to bump into him.

 “Whoa, dude! What the hell?” Thomas cried out as he tried to find his balance.

 Thomas looked up to see Minho staring at him in disbelief, as if he’d just been told the most insulting thing in his life. Thomas blinked. “I’m a hungry man, Thomas,” Minho reminded him in pretend exasperation, throwing his arms over his head. “I need food, and I need it now.”

 And with that, Thomas snorted, giving Minho a quick pat on the shoulder. “Sure, Min.” He shook his head before prompting the boy to begin walking again. “Now, why don’t we actually begin with the shopping?”

 “Yeah, yeah.” Minho rolled his eyes before closing the distance between himself and the aisle of chips.

 Thomas wasn’t surprised when Minho started making a grab for multiple bags of Doritos without hesitation. Minho hummed in satisfaction, staring at the bags of chips laying in his arms. “You know… with this many bags of chips,” Minho started saying, “I think we can actually pull off scaring Teresa’s soulmate away.” He looked so pleased with himself.

 Thomas deadpanned him, turning into Teresa for a split second. Thomas almost shuddered at the thought. “I think Tes was serious about not leaving a bad impression on the guy,” he said as he walked towards an empty trolley, and pushed it towards Minho. “Maybe we should save the pranks for some other time,” he cautioned.

 Minho pouted mockingly. “But I bet it’d be fun.” He dropped the bags of chips into the empty trolley, each bag landing onto the metal surface with a soft thud. “There’s finally going to be a new guy in the group to prank. _A new prankee._ Doesn’t it sound even a bit intriguing?”

 Thomas took the duty of pushing the trolley around while Minho proceeded to walking to another aisle. “No, it doesn’t,” Thomas replied sternly, feeling his inner adult resurfacing. And then he paused. “Fine. Maybe a little bit. But we shouldn’t pull anything at the party. It’s too soon.”

 “The day after the party should do then.”

“Minho.”

 Minho turned to him and grinned. “I gotta say… waiting a while before pulling a prank doesn’t seem too shabby,” he mused. Thomas shot him a look of surprise, his eyebrows raised. But that, of course, was all shattered when Minho opened his mouth again. “It gives us time to prep for one of the greatest antics in history. Just you listen to me. We’ll even make the headlines.”

 Thomas shook his head in amusement. “You’re unbelievable.”

 Thomas stopped pushing the trolley when Minho came to a halt and stood in front of the aisle with bottles of beer and hard liquor.

  “Speaking of Tes, do you think she’s already met her soulmate?” Minho asked while studying the bottles for a few moments. It wasn’t long before he started grabbing different bottles of beer. Unlike the bags of chips he’d dumped into the trolley earlier, Minho placed them into the cart gently. Dropping them didn’t really sound like a pleasant idea.

 Thomas let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know, but I suppose so,” he replied. “I just hope she’s content with whoever he is, you know? No matter how much that girl bugs me, she deserves so much more than what she has now.”

 Minho turned to Thomas and cooed. “Aw, does our little Tomkin actually care for his annoying best friend?” He placed his hands over his chest.

 The next thing Minho knew, he was shielding himself from the light punches he was receiving from the other boy. Minho couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Oh my God, I am so going to tell Teresa ‘bout this. I bet my ass she’ll use it against you one day.”

 “Hey!” Thomas exclaimed accusingly. “Okay, first of all, she is our annoying best friend. And second of all, dick,--” Minho chortled. “--she has more reasons to go against you than she has reasons to go against me,” Thomas sneered.

 Just as Minho was adjusting the position of the bottles in the trolley, he groaned. He knew full well what Thomas was hinting at. “Listen, those basket of cookies were genuine,” he grumbled. “I really did try to bake those for her. They weren’t part of my ‘pranking shenanigans’. I swear!” Minho held up his hands.

 Thomas arched an eyebrow. “Those cookies had so much salt in them that she had to stay at home from Uni for three days straight because her stomach was so upset.” Minho flinched, almost looking guilty. “And you expect me to believe you didn’t mean to add that much salt?”

 “I didn’t see the label!” Minho flailed his arms around as he started walking away from the shelves of alcohol. Thomas pushed the trolley, following his lead. “Besides, is there really anyone on this planet who can tell the sugar and salt apart without labels?”

 Thomas laughed. “You could see it as a lesson. You know… that whole ‘learn from your mistakes’ crap.” He slung an arm over Minho’s shoulder, pushing the cart with one hand. “Because I don’t think your soulmate wouldn’t be too happy if they had their cookies intoxicated with three metric tons of salt.”

 Minho grunted and pushed Thomas’s arm off. “I know, man. I’m not stupid,” he said. “You’re talking to a student who’s majoring in Computer Sciences, in case you forgot,” he boasted. Thomas didn’t need to turn to Minho to know that the boy was probably wearing a smug expression.

 “I was just joking. I _know_ you’re smart,” Thomas said dramatically before they both stopped right in front of an aisle filled with plastic utensils.

 Minho laughed at Thomas’s lame excuse of a banter. “Thanks,” he replied sarcastically before continuing. “I don’t know, man. I just - I don’t want to take this whole soulmate thing too seriously. Just because a countdown on my wrist tells me that whoever is on the other side is my ‘soulmate’, it doesn’t really mean we’ll end up together forever. It’s almost bizarre to have that mindset.” Minho shrugged as he eyed the contents of the shelves.

 Thomas nudged Minho’s shoulder. “Getting philosophical here, are we?” he teased.

 “Just sayin’,” Minho commented while taking a few bags of plastic cups and plates from the shelves. Thomas helped rearrange the load in the trolley. “My mom didn’t end up with her soulmate, but with another man who makes her just as happy.”

 Thomas reached over to Minho and playfully pinched his cheeks. ”You’re such a lovely son!” he jested. Minho pushed him away, muttering creative words such as ‘dickbag’ and ‘asslamp’. Thomas couldn’t help but laugh.

 “Seriously though... I think you’re right. It’s nice to see your mom happy like that,” Thomas commented once it was more relaxed. “Every single time Tes and I stop by your place, your mom’s always smiling. Tes finds her really cute.”

 Minho beamed. “That’s my mom for you,” he said fondly. “See, though? She’s happy with who she’s with now. Kinda shows it doesn’t really matter who your soulmate is,” he said. “Which is why I don’t really care about this stupid clock unlike everybody else.”

 Thomas laughed to himself, noticing at how it seemed to be that his best friend was the only one who didn’t care about soulmates and countdowns. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I mean… I’d really like to find out who’s at the other end of my countdown, but I guess I can’t, huh?” he joked. He felt a pinch of hurt in chest.

 His wrist was blank.

 It had always been blank.

 Well, not really.

 Thomas was seven when it disappeared. The earliest memory Thomas had about the countdown on his wrist was that he still had a couple of years left before he met his soulmate. But one supposedly normal morning while he was watching Toy Story in his pyjamas, it stopped.

 Just like that, the numbers vanished on their own.

 Being seven then, Thomas didn’t understand why the numbers that were counting down on his wrist disappeared.

 Minho was the first person he went to when he realised the numbers weren’t going to be returning any time soon. The asian thought he’d been joking when Thomas ran to him frantically, spilling nervous sentences about numbers that magically disappeared. He distinctly remembered his own bottom lip quivering from fear and confusion while he told Minho what had happened. It didn’t help knowing that Minho was about just as confused as he was.

 It wasn’t a secret though. Thomas didn’t really like to hide things. Naturally, people around him knew what his “blank wrist”. Whenever people enthusiastically came up to him and asked what the numbers on his countdown read, Thomas would explain his case to them as if he wasn’t bothered by it at all. He’d always hated explaining it to people though because of their initial reactions; Thomas noticed how their faces would immediately be masked with pity. But he pushed it aside.

 Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he met other friends who didn’t give a single crap whether he had numbers on his wrist or not, much like Minho. Teresa was the first one. And it just kind of gradually grew into a huge family of friends with people like Frypan, Winston, Jeff, Gally, and Ben. He loved them to bits.

 But despite the friends and happiness he had found, a small feeling of heartache still made its way to his chest whenever people talked about their countdowns and excitement for meeting their soulmates. Seeing soulmates meeting on the sidewalks didn’t help either. He’d pause walking on the streets and watch it happen; how nervous they looked before huge grins slowly made their way to their faces. He was happy for them, but upset for himself. It was selfish of him, but he couldn’t help it.

 Thomas’s train of thoughts were broken when Minho placed a hand on his shoulder, slowing down his pace. He looked concerned. “Hey… I know I’m the worst best friend to ever exist on this planet,” he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere, “but we really don’t have to talk about this.”

 The brunet waved his hand in dismissal, making sure to smile. If anything, he appreciated his best friend’s sympathy. “I’m fine, Min. Really,” he assured him. “Now, let’s finish buying these crapload of goods before Frypan begins to think we lied to him about grocery shopping.”

 Minho’s face scrunched up before finally walking to the section with many different sandwiches. “Why would he think that?”

 Thomas rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, but that’s the reason I have two strikes on eating his muffins even though I’ve never eaten his muffins without his permission before today.” He scoffed. “I’m pretty sure the first strike is meant to be put on Aris.”

 Minho laughed. “Ah yes, Aris. That kid. Don’t blame him. He’s still in high school,” he said. “Like me, that kid needs some stress relief.”

 Thomas threw his hands in the air. “ _And I don’t?_ ”

 “Well, to be fair, I need it more than you do. Don’t forget what I’m majoring in, Tomkin. You don’t even know half the coding we’re required to do in the subject,” he said. “It’s slowly driving me fucking insane. Trust me, man. I’ll snap one day and just lose it.”

 Thomas had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing. “You need stress relief?” he joked. “Is that why you’re grabbing three different sandwiches from the shelf right now?”

 Minho, who was holding sandwiches with different fillings, turned to Thomas slowly with a hard gaze fixed on his face. Thomas swore that if he wasn’t been Minho’s best friend and knew that it was all a joke, he’d be scared for sure. The man looked as if he was ready to go on a killing rampage.

 “I,” Minho started saying darkly, “have needs. Tuna sandwiches aren’t enough for this amazing body.” He dramatically motioned towards his body, leaving Thomas to roll his eyes. “I also need ham and cheese sandwiches. And turkey, too. Anything without mayonnaise actually because those are gross.”

 Thomas snorted. “I have no idea why we’re friends. You’re a loser,” he said while Minho dropped the sandwiches in the trolley. Thomas took the lead and started walking away from the aisle while Minho followed from behind, pushing the trolley this time.

 “Oh, please.” Minho scoffed. “You say that as if you aren’t one as well,” he sassed. “Plus, that’s a lie. You love me.”

 “‘Course, I do.”

 Minho laughed as he coaxed the brunet. “No worries. I love myself too.”

 Thomas was about to make a snarky remark before he remembered something. “Hey, Min. Hold up.” Thomas stopped the other boy, who was headed to the cashier to pay for the junk in the trolley. “Aren’t we supposed to get a gift basket or something? For our new neighbour, I mean.”

 Minho looked slightly taken aback. It was clear that he’d forgotten about having to do such thing, but remembered as soon as Thomas mentioned it. “Oh, right. I think they’re over there. Just behind that aisle.” Minho nodded towards the direction behind Thomas before pushing the trolley there.

 “Good thing I remembered.” Thomas breathed with a slight hint of relief. “Teresa would definitely have both of us beheaded if we came up to her without it.”

 When they arrived to the section with gift baskets, both of them found that there were many sizes with different sort of things in them. Thomas made a grab for a small one with chocolate bars and little sweets in it. He thought that the little baby blue bow was endearing.

 Minho hummed in approval at Thomas’s choice. “I wonder how your new neighbour is going to be,” he wondered. “I hope they don’t mind my music,” he added as they started making their way back to the cashier.

 Thomas stared at Minho blankly. ”Minho, you have your own bedroom in your mom’s house. You can blast your music there, I’m sure,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “There’s literally no need to barge into our apartment just to do so.”

 A shit-eating grin made its way to Minho’s face. “Eh.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t have the same effect. My mom’s normally not as annoyed with it as you and Tes are. And you know how much I enjoy annoying you two.” He winked.

 “Whatever.” Thomas snorted. “You’ll have to be more careful this time, though. I don’t think our new neighbour would appreciate loud pop songs at the ass crack of dawn.”

 Minho shook his head in disappointment. Thomas thought he looked ridiculous. He tried his best not to burst into laughter. “Ah, well. I guess I’d just have to… uptown funk them up,” he said just as stopped right in front of the cashier.

 “Oh my God.” Thomas groaned as he dropped his head in his hands, lingering there for a few seconds before he looked back up to see Minho grinning like the piece of shit he is. That bastard. “I cannot believe those words actually came out of your mouth,” he grumbled before he started helping Minho remove the contents of the trolley.

 Minho wiggled his eyebrows. “But they did.”

 Thomas swore he was almost ready to drop on his knees to plead. “Please don’t do that to our neighbour,” he said. “Have some mercy before stirring some ideas from that dark torture chamber of yours, which, by the way, is your head.”

 “Can’t promise a thing, Thomas,” Minho joked before facing the person behind the cashier.

 Thomas let out a huff of defeat. He knew that Minho wasn’t the kind of person who just couldn’t not do things. Minho pulled out his wallet and paid for the groceries before greeting the person behind the counter a quick thank you. Minho grabbed the paper bags; he had two in his own arms while Thomas carried one in one hand with the gift basket hanging on his other arm.

 “Wow, I didn’t think this would be this heavy,” Minho said, sounding a bit surprised. “How much stuff did we actually get?”

 Thomas snorted. “It was mostly you,” he responded. They started walking towards the exit of the supermarket, glad that it was finally over. “You were the one grabbing bags of snacks after bag of snacks.”

 “Shut up.” Minho waved him off. “Anyway, do you think you can round these bags up in your place?” he asked, turning to Thomas.

 Thomas shot an eyebrow at him. “Our apartment? Why? Won’t it be best if we left these bags in your place? That way, we won’t have to go back and forth from your place to mine for these bags.” He nodded towards the things they were holding.

 “What, you don’t know?” Minho blinked.

 Thomas stared at the other boy suspiciously, studying his face for answers. “What don’t I know? We haven’t got all day, man.” He fished his phone out to check the time. “I’ve got to be back at the cafe to continue my shift. Frypan will probably start freaking out soon with the influx of customers.”

 This time, it was Minho who raised his eyebrow at Thomas. “I’m holding the party at your place,” Minho told Thomas, who still looked confused. “Must have told Teresa a few days back. I thought she’d told you already.” He shrugged.

 “I didn’t know.” Thomas scratched the back of his head. “It must have slipped out of my mind if she did tell me. Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly.

 Minho nudged him in encouragement. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just make sure to get some rest tonight. No one would want a Griever version of you,” he quipped.

 “Oh, screw off.” Thomas laughed.

 Minho rolled his eyes. “Could you bring these to your place then? I’ll head off to the cafe now and check on Frypan,” he said. “I think we spent too much time in there.”

 And almost immediately, Thomas started to protest against the asian. “Hold up. Are you telling me I have to carry all of these paper bags and gift basket back to my apartment on my own?” he asked incredulously.

  Minho only ignored the brunet’s outburst, and shoved the two paper bags he’d been carrying right into Thomas’s arms. “You can do it, Tomkin. You’re a star.”

 Thomas struggled to keep the three paper bags balanced in his arms. The way the gift basket hung uncomfortably in his arm didn’t help. “Minho, I’m not doing this myself,” he deadpanned. “It’s physically not possible. There is absolutely no wa—”

 “Bye, baby cakes!” Minho exclaimed before dashing off to the direction of The Glade.

 Thomas watched as the figure of his best friend disappeared around the corner. He slumped as he continued to struggle to keep the bags in his arms. He closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself to walk all the way to his apartment.

 “Fuck.”

*  *  *    

 Thomas leaned forward and and tried his best to peer over the paper bags scrunched up in his arms to see where he was stepping without tripping. It had all been going well earlier, really. Until he got to the part where he had to climb the stairs to his apartment.

 On a normal day, Thomas wouldn’t have found any trouble climbing the stairs because his and Teresa’s apartment was just on the second floor. He could easily hop right into their flat without a single thought of adversity. But seeing as today was obviously not one of those ‘Just hop right in!’ days, it was difficult for Thomas to try and keep his balance without dropping everything in his arms. Who would have known three brown paper bags and a small gift basket could make his life ten times harder?

 If Minho had been kind enough to help him carry the grocery bags to the apartment, maybe -- and just maybe -- he wouldn’t be plotting a murder in his head for the asian. Thomas was certain he wasn’t alone in this; Teresa would totally agree on being an accomplice.

 But for now, Thomas decided to push the thought away as he really needed to focus where his feet were going. He could imagine himself tripping and letting the groceries crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

 “Please don’t fall. Please don’t fall,” Thomas repeated under his breath. He was already just a few steps from his apartment, and if he was to fuck up and fall, Minho would make sure to puncture his dignity with his sharp attitude.

 It wasn’t easy, but after a couple of minutes of torture and anticipation on the staircase, Thomas managed to reach the top step without losing his balance. Not completely anyway. He did waver here and there but no one really needed to know that.

 Thomas briefly closed his eyes and said a quick thankful prayer to the gods for letting him pass this one. He let out a huff a relief before continuing to walk towards the door of his apartment.

 “Minho owes me one,” he muttered to himself with a slight hint of annoyance in his tone.

 The brunet blinked a few times before he realised his keys were in the back pocket of his jeans. Thinking that it would mean no harm, Thomas dropped the grocery bags and the gift basket onto the floor abruptly. Though he did let the bag with the bottles of beer drop last so that the other bags could cushion the fall.

 Thomas thought it was a great idea to drop everything he had just been holding to the floor to grab his keys. So just as he was reaching into his back pocket, he jumped, completely startled, when a someone exclaimed:

 “Bloody Christ!”

 Thomas looked up frantically to see a guy with honey blond hair bent over in pain. It didn’t take him long to notice the bags of groceries he had just been carrying resting on the guy’s feet. And almost instantaneously, he started babbling.

 “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean cause any harm. It’s just that my keys are in my pocket and—” Thomas rambled while he scurried to remove the brown bags from the blond’s feet. “—I thought I’d just drop them there you know because it’d be easy to get my keys then, right?”

 “Hey,” the blond tried to interject as Thomas slowly got on his nerves. But, of course, with Thomas having one of his rambling sessions, his voice only drowned in Thomas’s own.

 “So I just dropped them there, and really, I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know you were standing there and just, I didn’t mean it. I promise,” Thomas finished speaking.

 Realising that he had been throwing up encyclopaedias, Thomas immediately silenced himself, his lips forming a thin line as a blush slowly crept into his face in embarrassment.

 The blond almost looked relieved when he stopped talking. “Shut up for a bit, will you?” He raised an eyebrow. Thomas caught on his cold tone instantly, but he didn’t comment on it and only nodded in response. “It’s really mindless, what you just did. Please don’t just bloody drop your crap like that without looking.”

 Thomas was taken aback by his harshness. He noticed how he spoke in a cold tone, as if Thomas had been the most irritating thing to walk the planet. He didn’t really blame him.  What he noticed first, though, was his thick British accent; it wasn’t exactly something you’d miss easily.

 Thomas scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise it won’t happen again.”

 The other boy rolled his eyes. Thomas stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Then, the blond pursed his lips and turned to head off to another direction without saying a word.

 Without thinking straight, Thomas reached out for the blond’s wrist. “Hey, wait!”

 When he turned around to face Thomas, the brunet was met with that hard gaze again. Only this time, he looked more annoyed. “Well?” he asked icily. “Is there any other reason you called me back or are you just going to stand there clutching onto my wrist? I’ve got stuff to do if you don’t mind.”

 Thomas’s eyes flickered to his hand, which was still wrapped around the other boy’s pale wrist, and immediately dropped it. He cleared his throat and muttered a quick apology before moving on to his point. “Well, uh,” he started, trying to keep his cool together (it wasn’t really working if he was being honest). “I just wanted to know whether you were visiting someone. It’s just that I haven’t seen you around, and I usually know the people who come in and out of this building.” The blond raised an eyebrow. “In a non-stalkerish way,” Thomas added quickly.

“A social butterfly, huh?” He snorted. “If you must know, I just moved into the apartment there today,” he provided, nodding towards the door located just opposite of where his apartment was.

 Thomas was surprised, remembering the conversation he had with his roommate earlier that morning. “Really? Teresa told me someone moved in when she saw all the boxes. Guess she was talking about you,” he said. “Huh.”

 “Teresa?” the blond asked even though Thomas could tell by his tone that he wasn’t interested.

 “Tes is my roommate,” Thomas answered anyway. “We live together in that apartment over there.” He turned back and pointed at their door.

 When Thomas turned back to face the blond, he noticed that he wasn’t really paying attention. The boy nodded nonetheless. “Anyway, now that you know about why I’m here in this building where you apparently know everybody, I’m going to head back to my apartment because I have some things to handle. Sound good?”

 He didn’t wait for Thomas’s reply and turned around to walk off to his own apartment, not sparing another look at the brunet. He quickly caught on to the blond’s harsh tone. But in fairness, Thomas did just meet him (and dropped a shit ton of crap on his feet).

 “Oh, right. Yeah, I’m just going to head back to my…,” Thomas called after the blond even though he was nearly out of his sight. “,…apartment,” he finished awkwardly as soon as he was standing alone in the hallway.

 Thomas remained standing where he was stood for a moment, doing nothing but staring at the cold air that hung around him. Teresa was no doubt going to pull his ear for leaving a bad impression. Sighing, he turned around and walked to his apartment door, where the bags of groceries were sitting next to.

 


	3. Je Vous Connais

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking roughly a month to update. I'd just had my closing ceremony for school. So, I'll have time to pay attention to the fic more! I hope this update satisfies your needs.
> 
> P.S. All your kind words about this fic don't go unnoticed. I love y'all who leave comments, and kudos. It means a lot to me. (ღ˘ ⌣ ˘ღ)

  For a late but warm Monday afternoon, it wasn’t surprising for the streets of their little town to be quite crowded; zombified students were starting to leave their school campuses; little children were starting to go out and play under the sun; the shifts of the relieved office workers were starting to come to an end. With all that going on, it was obviously inevitable for someone who was rushing like Thomas to end up bumping into another person carelessly.

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Thomas quickly apologised to the middle-aged woman whom he had just bumped into. The woman didn’t say anything and merely glared at him before strutting away. Thomas huffed, but continued to rush off to the direction of the cafe without looking back, not sparing another second.

  After dropping the painfully heavy groceries in his apartment, he hadn’t realised how much time had actually passed since he left The Glade earlier that day with Minho. It wasn’t exactly his fault, though. He believed — scratch that — he knew that if Minho had helped him, two things would have happened; first, a lot of time would have been saved; and second, with an extra helping hand, he wouldn’t have violated his new neighbour’s feet.

  He had to fight in the urge to grumble in public. He nearly cringed at himself as he replayed the horrendous scene in his head; how he basically had a word vomit; how the guy was really put off, and cold. 

  As much as he was quite different from Teresa, they both did surprisingly share some similarities, one of which was both of them being believers of good first impressions. And a good first impression wasn’t what exactly he had given the blond back at their building.

  Thomas’ train of thoughts were broken when he felt his phone buzzing. In a swift motion, he fished his phone out of his back pocket, and answered. Before he could even greet the caller with a simple hello, they had already spoken.

  “Ma man! Where are you?”

  He knew that voice anywhere. Thomas replied sarcastically, “Hello to you too, Minho.” He squeezed his way through a small path where a lot of little kids with their small backpacks were occupying, being extra careful on trying not to bump into anyone.

  “Hi there, Grumpy. Happy now?” Minho bit back, making Thomas chuckle. “Seriously, where are you? Teresa’s here. She’s been here for a while already actually.”

  Thomas’ ears perked up at the mention of Teresa. “Really? Has she met her soulmate already?” he questioned, the words flowing out of his mouth quickly. He reminded himself of a child asking their mom whether or not they were getting a toy car for Christmas.

  “Yep,” Minho confirmed with a hint of something in his tone that Thomas couldn’t really bring himself to detect. “I won’t tell you anything, though. You just — you have to be here. Right now.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. Nonetheless, he continued rushing down the streets as he started to get closer to the cafe, spotting the familiar little ironically coffee-brown shop at the corner of the block. “You sound excited,” Thomas observed as his eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

  “Just hurry up!” Minho exploded at the other end of the line, making Thomas cringe away from his phone as the volume suddenly got a little too loud for his ears.

  Thomas was slightly taken aback by Minho’s outburst. “Relax, Min. I’m nearly there. Is it busy, by the way? I’m sorry that I’m sort of la—”

  Minho didn’t let him finish his sentence. “That doesn’t really matter right now. It’s usually always busy here at this hour.” Thomas could imagine the asian waving a hand in dismissal. “ _Where are you?_ ”

  Thomas pushed the door to The Glade with his free hand, making the golden bells on the top of it chime as he stepped in. “Right here!” he called out to Minho, trying to catch his breath in the process. He found Minho sitting at a table located near the counter.

  “You’re here!” Minho tapped on his phone, ending the call, and stood up from the table as the brunet made his way over to him. “Took you long enough,” Minho commented.

  “Not exactly my fault, now is it?” Thomas replied as he made a face. Minho snorted before he took a seat back down at the table. 

  Thomas looked around the cafe to see that it was quite packed, but not really. His eyes stopped at a familiar girl with jet black hair standing just by the counter. Almost instantaneously, he made his way over to her.

  “Teresa!”

  Teresa whirled around, slightly startled that her name had been called. Her shoulders relaxed when she spotted Thomas walking towards her. A wide smile made its way to her face. “Hey, Tom,” she greeted bubbly as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  Aris, who was in the process of making a drink for a customer, looked up at Thomas. “Hey, man,” he greeted from behind the counter with a friendly smile. “Finally decided to show up, huh?”

  “Blame that asshole,” Thomas replied as he jerked a thumb towards Minho, who looked up at the mention of his name. He grinned mockingly and waved his fingers. “He made me carry all the things we bought from the supermarket back to the apartment myself.”

  “I had to check if The Glade was doing fine without us, and look, they are.” Minho claimed as Thomas rolled his eyes in reply.

  Because the table Minho was sat at was located near the counter, Thomas could hear his reply quite well. He swore he could almost hear his egotistical bubble floating around the cafe too.

  Aris stifled a laugh. Teresa, on the other hand, had a playful smirk lingering on her lips. 

  “We actually do need help in here,” Aris said, mostly towards Minho. “Care to help?” he asked, directing the question to Thomas as he started pouring the mixture he had just blended into a big, dark mug.

  Thomas nodded. “Yes, of course. But give me a couple of minutes, will you? I just need to talk to Teresa for a bit about her soulmate. You know how important this is to her,” he said as he motioned towards Teresa.

  “Soulmate?” Aris looked up. “Oh, trust me. I know. Go ahead. Try not to take too long, though,” he said as he placed the mug on the counter. 

  Thomas raised an eyebrow at Aris.

  It turned out that it was Teresa who had ordered the drink Aris had just made as she was the one who reached out for the mug. She then said a quick thanks to the boy before turning to Thomas with an expectant look. “Come on! I have to tell you guys everything,” she shrieked excitedly.

  Following Teresa from behind, they walked to the table where Minho was sat. “Wait, what does Aris mean by ‘he knows’?” Thomas asked.

  Aris answered the question for Teresa as he called out, “Actually, I meant to say that _I’ve seen_.” He winked, leaving Thomas confused. He watched as Frypan, who was slicing a piece of cake next to Aris, let out a snort. Harriet too, who had just finished taking an order from a customer.

  Thomas frowned as he took a seat at the table. “What was that about?”

  Teresa sat down at the table, gently placing the mug on top. “If you had been here earlier, you would have known,” she teased. “Now you’re the only one in The Glade who doesn’t know anything about me and my soulmate at all.” She let out a small laugh.

  That didn’t help Thomas’ curiosity in any way as he only got more confused. The frown on his face deepened as he turned to Minho, who was tapping away on his phone, and asked, “Why do I feel like I’d just missed the second resurrection of Jesus Christ? Why don’t you tell me what I’m missing?”

  Minho snorted as he looked up from his phone. “You sort of did miss the second resurrection of Jesus Christ, which is sad for you,” he mimicked the brunet. “Ask Teresa. She’s the one with the soulmate.”

  Thomas opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. He only gaped at his best friends, whose faces were both plastered with smug expressions he’d gladly like to get rid of. “Look, I just want to know what happened!” He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Teresa, come on. I stayed up with you all night. I’m your best friend,” he pressed.

  Teresa replied with a shrug and said, “Just wait for a moment.”

  The brunet, growing tired of not being told a single piece of information, groaned as he dropped his head in his hands. “I have to go back to my duty in, like, a couple of minutes. Help me out here and tell me something, will you?” He looked at the both of them desperately, but they both remained silent; Minho was staring at his phone as if he wasn’t listening to Thomas, but the way he was trying to bite in a laugh gave away that he could in fact hear him; and Teresa had a secretive smile fixed on her face. “This isn’t fair. Where is he anyway?”

  “He?”

  Thomas turned around to see a petite girl with short, dark hair. Her corners of her lips were turned upwards, and she had her head tilted as she questioned nobody in particular. Thomas didn’t know what to say as he was certain he hadn’t met her before, let alone seen her anywhere at all.

  Teresa jumped up from her seat, her face visibly brightening upon seeing the girl. “Brenda!” she squealed, a bright smile forming on her face. “You took forever in the bathroom. You weren’t doing drugs, were you?” she asked playfully as a snort escaped Minho. Teresa shot him a quick glare before she sat back down, motioning for the girl — Brenda — to take a seat beside her.

  “Please.” Thomas watched as Brenda rolled her eyes. “You want me to be honest?” Teresa raised an eyebrow at her accusingly.

  “Don’t tell anyone, but I was admiring the scented soap. I didn’t know soap could smell that good, and be that foamy. I think I’ll be coming back here sometime soon just for the soap,” Brenda joked, making Teresa roll her eyes. 

  It wasn’t long before Brenda’s gaze dropped on Minho. “Hey… Minho, right? Sorry if I got your name wrong. I know it’s only been around ten minutes, but my memory can be a little bit fuzzy, you see.”

  Minho saluted. “You got it right. Minho is I. I am Minho. That is how I am called. Minho.”

  Teresa scowled at Minho again, making Brenda laugh. “You know, I like him already.” Brenda pointed at Minho, and made a face to show as if she approved of him. “And you’re Thomas, I take it? You weren’t here when I left for the bathroom a while ago.”

  Thomas blinked, taking a second to process the fact that the girl had been talking to him. “Oh, yeah. I’m Thomas. That’s me.” He extended a hand out for her to shake. “Are you…?”

  “My soulmate,” Teresa filled in for her while Brenda took Thomas’ extended hand, and shook it with a firm grip. “Brenda’s my soulmate,” she continued excitedly as she turned to look at Brenda with a fond expression fixed on her face. “I know it’s not what you both were expecting, but you know. It is what it is, and we’re both happy.” She dropped her head on Brenda’s shoulder, her cheeks turning into a light shade of pink.

  Thomas couldn’t help but smile at his best friend. “Well, it looks as if you’ve been proven wrong, Min.” He turned to Minho. “You said earlier that meeting your soulmate at a University campus wouldn’t be romantic, but look at these two being all lovey-dovey already. This is exciting. Minho, the man who’s known to be always right, is wrong.”

  “No one’s wrong here,” Minho countered. “That was totally subjective. There’s nothing wrong nor right when it comes to opinions.”

  Before Thomas could reply to Minho, Teresa stepped into the conversation. “If anyone’s wrong here, it’s you, Thomas,” she said wryly as she turned to look at him. “As far as I’m concerned, Minho isn’t known to be always right.” She turned to Brenda to explain. “He didn’t know the difference between sugar and salt when he made cookies for me. I have a feeling that he still doesn’t.”

  “Aha!” Minho pointed at Teresa abruptly. “At least you know that I made them for you genuinely, and not as a prank.”

  Teresa made a face at him. “That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that you don’t know the difference between salt and sugar. I swore I thought I’d gotten kidney stones after I ate them.” She shook her head as she added, “It was horrible.”

  Brenda and Thomas collectively erupted in laughter while Minho slowly sunk in his seat in embarrassment. “Can we move on from this topic?” he said, his face slightly red from blushing. “Today’s supposed to be about Brenda and you. Don’t turn it into Embarrass Minho Day.”

  Thomas chuckled at the asian, but he agreed with him nonetheless. “Yeah, let’s talk about you both before I’ve got to get back to my shift.” He took a breath as he briefly glanced at the counter; Aris was brewing a drink while Frypan and Harriet were both taking orders. It seemed as if it was getting busier by the second, but he knew they could still manage to function without him for a couple more minutes.

  “Anyway,” Thomas continued, clasping his hands as he turned to the two girls, “how did this happen?” he asked.

  Brenda and Teresa exchanged glances with wide smiles plastered on their faces. Teresa spoke up first, “Well, you know how I said I had to work on the costumes the drama department were asking for, right?” Thomas nodded, recalling Teresa telling them that morning. “Yeah, well. While I was drawing the designs in one of the rooms, the tip of my pencil broke.”

  Minho snorted. “Classic.”

  Teresa slapped a hand on his mouth to shut him from making further comments. Minho started to protest, but she continued anyway, her hand still stuck on his mouth. Thomas bit his bottom lip to fight in the urge of bursting into another wave of laughter while Brenda giggled.

  “As I was saying,” Teresa continued in amusement, “I stood up, and started to head off to this room where we keep all the stationery to grab a sharpener or something. I didn’t even think to look at my countdown because I was so engrossed with designing the costumes.” She laughed. “You know me.”

  Thomas gave Teresa a smile as she continued. “So, yeah. While I was rushing to get a sharpener, this girl—” She turned to Brenda, who was grinning. “—magically appeared out of thin air, and we bumped into each other.”

  “Yep,” Brenda confirmed. “Imagine our faces when both of the countdowns on our wrists started blaring loudly. She had the funniest look on her face. She was gaping at me while holding a yellow pencil with a broken tip dumbly in the air,” she chortled as she demonstrated, mimicking Teresa’s face while holding up a straw as the aforementioned pencil. “It was so cute.”

  Minho and Thomas started to laugh. “I bet it was,” Minho, who now was free from being held back by Teresa’s hand, bemused. “Man, I would pay millions to see you appear out of thin air, and to see Teresa gaping. I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen her mouth open any other times than when she’s speaking,” the asian pointed out.

  Teresa choked on her drink, and quickly composed herself. “I just think it’s not decent for anyone to have their mouths hanging open,” she said, defending herself. “Plus, she didn’t literally magically appear out of thin air,” she echoed with a roll of her eyes.

  “Of course.” Brenda laughed. “My tour group was taking a break, and I was just looking for a bathroom because unlike this little bird here, I was paying attention to my countdown, and felt myself going sick,” she explained. “And while I was looking for the bathroom, I turned a sharp corner, and there she was.”

  Thomas tilted his head. “Tour group?”

  “Mhm, some new students and I were being shown around the University campus,” Brenda answered him, “which, by the way, was really impressive. I couldn’t believe the size of the whole place, really. With a lower tuition fee compared to other colleges in the area, I was expecting a smaller campus.”

  “So, you’re not from around here then?” Minho asked.

  Brenda nodded, and confirmed that she was in fact not from their town. “Where are you from?” the asian slipped in another question before adding, “If you don’t mind me asking, ‘course.”

  “A small city hours from here. Like, a lot of hours,” Brenda replied.

  “And your parents let you go to a University this far away from where you’re from?” Minho asked.

  Teresa and Thomas looked at her expectantly, as if they were also looking forward to her upcoming answer. Thomas noticed how Brenda shifted uncomfortably in her sit. Teresa must have noticed it too because Thomas saw her looking at Brenda in concern. But as soon as it had come, it had disappeared. The uneasiness could still be heard in her voice though. 

  “I, um, I don’t have parents.” Brenda breathed. “I grew up in an orphanage just upstate.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Minho stammered, his eyes widening. “I didn’t mean to poke on your personal background like that. I’m sorry.” He scratched the back of his head.

  Teresa took her hand in hers and said, “We don’t have to talk about this.”

  “No, it’s fine. I talk about it. It’s normal. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it to be brought up here,” Brenda said to them with a wave of a hand. “Seriously, it’s okay,” she assured when she noticed Minho still looking slightly bashful.

  Thomas spoke up this time, in case Minho didn’t know want to say. “So, you’re here alone? You know you can always stay with us whenever you want to, yeah?” he offered. “Tes and I live together. I wouldn’t mind company, to be honest. As long as you don’t blast out loud music all the time like Minho.” 

  Teresa nodded in approval to show that she was also okay with Thomas’ proposal. “I’m not really fond of hearing overrated pop songs at dawn.”

  This seemed to ease the tension around the table because laughter erupted from all of them but Minho.

  “Dicks,” Minho simply said. But both Teresa and Thomas knew that he was joking when he flashed them a toothy grin.

  That was one of the reasons why Thomas really adored Minho. He had always found that Minho was easy to get along with. Maybe that was what that kept them friends even after all the years that had already passed.

  Brenda snorted; which, at this point, Thomas knew she was going to fit in well with their group. She wasn’t afraid of snorting in front of them. 

  “Thanks for the offer, but as of now, I’m pretty sure I can handle it,” Brenda said. “While I was living in the orphanage, I took on multiple jobs, and saved up.” She shrugged. “Besides, if you guys thought that I was on my own, I’m not. I’m actually with a friend.”

  “A friend?” Teresa asked.

  Brenda nodded. “Yeah, a friend from the orphanage. He’s like me — an orphan, I mean,” she said. “We’re not living together, though. As much as we’re really close buddies, he likes to have his own personal space. He can get grumpy when he’s writing, and there’s someone around.”

  “Oh, that’s so cool,” Minho beamed. “You’ve got a writer for a friend? Wait… he’s not, like, a forty years old creep who likes to pretend they’re writing genius novel length stories, when in reality all they’re writing is underage erotica, right?”

  Brenda started to choke on air while Teresa stared at Minho, horrified. Thomas was laughing so hard that he had to clutch his stomach while he was doubling over. 

  “I knew someone,” Minho supplied vaguely while Brenda tried to compose herself once again.

  “I can confirm that he’s not a creep,” she said as the corners of her lips quirked upwards in amusement. Minho grinned. “He’s just a year older than me, but he decided to write full-time. He’s very good at it actually,” she said fondly.

  This made Thomas curious about him. Who would start writing as a full-time job at the age that was still considered quite young? But, before Thomas could ask more about him out of pure curiosity, Minho beat him to it by piping in, “I’m not quite sure I believe you,” he joked as he narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll only believe you when I see this supposed writer for myself. For all we know, you could be lying to us right now.”

  Teresa laughed. “Please, Minho. Go easy on her. She’s not lying,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “How would you know, Tes?” Minho turned to her. But Teresa didn’t answer and only shook her head in response.

  “He’s real. Just because I’m an orphan, it doesn’t mean I’ve gone nuts,” Brenda said as she held her hands up in the air in defence. “In fact, I texted him a while back, and told him to come here to meet Teresa.”

  Minho raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

  Brenda nodded. “He should be here…” Her gaze dropped on the door that was behind where Thomas was sat. “About now,” she finished as Thomas heard the bells on top of the door chime a familiar, messy tune. Brenda jumped up from her seat, and went over to where Thomas guessed was her writer friend.

  Minho looked impressed. “Huh,” he said. “He’s quite real, and quite cute. Might even be your type, Tomkin.”

  Teresa shoved him on the shoulder lightly. “Don’t harass her, and her friend, will you?”

  But Thomas couldn’t hear the voices of his best friends because all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing to his ears, and his heart racing against his chest when he turned around to see where Brenda was standing. He felt his stomach churn as his lips went dry.

  Brenda’s friend was his new neighbour.

  “Come on!” Thomas heard Brenda usher the blond to their table as she tugged on his wrist. “She’s over there with her friends,” she said as she pointed to their direction.

  The blond’s gaze followed where Brenda’s finger was pointing. Thomas felt his whole face glow bright red when the boy almost instantly locked his eyes on him. He knew, of course. Who could forget Thomas after an incident like that? But even if the blond had remembered him, he didn’t say anything about it. He just let Brenda drag him to their table.

  Thomas turned back around as they approached. Teresa and Minho didn’t seem to notice how weird he was acting because they didn’t bring up anything about the boy nor his flushed face. 

  It was like hell, waiting for Brenda and the blond to make their way over to their table. Was he supposed to act like they had met already? What was he supposed to say?

  “Told you he was real!” Brenda chirped as she motioned towards the writer. “Newt, meet Teresa. She’s my soulmate,” she gushed as she introduced Teresa first.

  Newt. That was his name. If anything, his name only added to the list of things he found cute about the blond.

  “Hi, Newt!” Teresa beamed as she waved a hand at him.

  “Teresa?” Newt repeated, as if hearing the name pulled a memory out of him.

  Thomas stiffened by the slightest. He recalled mentioning that he had a roommate called Teresa earlier that day. He painfully waited for Teresa to reply.

  Teresa looked confused but laughed it off. “Uh, yeah, that’s me? Why, do you know anyone else with the name?”

  Thomas dared to take a look at the blond. He shook his head at Teresa. “No, it just sounded familiar. That’s all.” His eyes flickered to Thomas for a second. Thomas couldn’t help but let out a quick cough. Teresa glanced at him strangely before looking away.

  “Oh, right. Guess it is quite a common name.” Teresa shrugged. “Anyway, Minho here will be glad to know you exist,” she said with a snort as she nodded towards the asian.

  The blond raised an eyebrow. But before Teresa could fill him up on it, Minho piped in.

  “Long story. You don’t want to hear about it. Trust me,” Minho supplied for Newt. “I’m Minho, by the way. And all you need to know right now is that I’m, like Tes said, glad to know that you exist.” He flashed him one of his famous grins, which Newt did not return. Instead, he just pursed his lips and nodded.

  “Nice to meet you,” Newt replied shortly.

  The vague reply didn’t seem to bother Minho though because he ignored it, and instead slapped Thomas on the back. Hard. “This,” Minho started saying, “is my dear friend, Thomas. If you’re wondering, he’s single and ready to mingle, by the way.”

  Minho grinned proudly. Brenda and Teresa choked on laughter while Thomas felt his face grow hot. “Minho, you asshole,” he hissed towards the asian, making the girls laugh more. 

  Slowly, he turned to Newt, and cleared his throat. “I, uh — Don’t mind him. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” He blushed furiously. “Newt, right?”

  If Newt reacted to what Minho had just said, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stared at Thomas with a hard look. “Yes, it is.”

  Brenda looked between Newt and Thomas, noticing the intensity of the stare the blond was sending Thomas. Thomas uncomfortably shifted on his seat. He felt as if Newt was burning holes through his body just by staring at him. Like an ant under a magnifier.

  “Hold up a second,” Brenda said, raising a finger. “Have you two met each other?”

  “I—”

  Newt stepped in swiftly, and shook his head. “No, we haven’t. I just thought we have,” he lied easily through his teeth.

  Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realised he didn’t know what to supply. “Um, yeah. I don’t think I’ve seen him around either,” he mumbled lamely.

  They all seem to have bought it because no one pushed it further. Brenda and Newt sat down at the table. Naturally, Brenda and Teresa were sat next to each other. Thomas was sat next to Teresa, and Minho next to Thomas. Being Brenda’s friend. Newt took a seat beside her.

  Thomas must have never seemed to notice that all the tables in The Glade were round because now, he was cursing at them for giving him a perfect view of the blond. His plan right from when he saw him when he stepped in the cafe was to avoid him as much as he could. But, now that he was given a clear view of him, it was obvious that it was going to be difficult.

  “Aw,” Minho cooed. “Look at this. We’re making new friends just because of your soulmate countdowns.”

  Brenda and Teresa exchanged glances with smiles lingering on their lips. “Can I ask about your countdown, Minho?” Brenda brought up, asking in genuine interest.

  “Oh, it’s pretty boring.” We watched Minho answer as he waved his wrist in front of us to see. “It’s still got around a year left before it hits a big, fat zero,” he said. “Not that I care, though.” He shrugged.

  Brenda raised an eyebrow at the asian, questioning him further.

  “He’s not really into this whole soulmate thing. It’s not in his list of things he find interesting,” Teresa explained to Brenda, who nodded in understanding.

  Thomas snuck a peek at Newt to see what he thought of the whole thing. He slowly looked up and saw that the blond had an intense and tight expression plastered on his face. He was staring at the table too, as if he hadn’t been listening to Minho at all, but thinking of something else.

  “Thomas, you there?” Brenda snapped her fingers in front of him in amusement.

  Thomas blinked before he realised that he had been paying the blond too much attention. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. No one addressed it though, which seemed like a good sign. “Huh?”

  Brenda smirked. “I was just asking you about your countdown.”

  Thomas felt his throat tighten and his lips dry instantly. It wasn’t voluntarily, of course. It was like reflex, at this point. 

  Minho and Teresa must have spotted his uneasiness because in a split second; Minho stiffened beside Thomas; and Teresa opened her mouth to say something to Brenda. But, before she could interrupt, Thomas started to speak to show that it was okay, and that he could handle it.

  “I don’t have a countdown,” Thomas said quietly at first. It was still strange for him saying those words out loud. But when he gathered more confidence, he spoke louder, and added, “My wrist is blank.”

  No one spoke a word for a few seconds.

  Blank wrists weren’t impossible or not heard of. It was just incredibly rare. People with blank wrists were like four-leaf clovers. In a field with a ton of clover leaves, you wouldn’t even think they’re there. But they are. They exist. And Thomas happened to be one of those four-leaf clovers.

  Thomas looked around the table, not knowing what to say. Teresa and Minho remained silent. They knew his story best of all. When his gaze dropped on Newt, Thomas found that he was looking at him with a look he couldn’t explain. 

  It wasn’t pity. Thomas knew what pity was when he saw it. And what the blond was giving him was certainly not pity. But before Thomas could decipher the meaning behind it, Brenda bursted.

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Brenda said frantically, looking as if she didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t know.”

  Thomas tore his eyes away from Newt, who was still looking at him, and turned to Brenda. “Of course you didn’t know.” He waved a hand. “It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter to me anyway.” He almost winced at his own words.

  “Do you mind if I, um, ask one more thing, though? It’s just that I’ve always been curious about… people like you,” Brenda trailed off. Thomas found himself flinching when she said the words. But Brenda didn’t notice. Instead, her eyes were burning with so much curiosity, and Thomas didn’t know why. So, he shrugged to show that she could. 

  “Was it always blank?”

_   No, I was seven.  _

  That, for Thomas, was strangely the most difficult thing to confess to anyone. It was because the looks that people would give him at this point was heart-wrenching. They’d look at him as if he was a kicked puppy, which he wasn’t. 

  So, he was glad when Teresa stepped in the conversation. “Why don’t you ask him sometime later? It can be a sensitive topic sometimes,” she explained to Brenda lowly.

  Thomas felt blood rush to his face. Even though he was glad for Teresa for speaking up for him, he always found it somewhat embarrassing when he needed someone to tell another to stop.

  Thomas glanced at Newt, who was still looking at him, but looked away right when he found Thomas looking back. Before he could think about it further, he felt Minho give him a light pat on the back. No one saw it though. He was glad for Minho.

  Brenda bobbed her head in understanding. “Of course. I’m sorry, Thomas. I didn’t mean to push the topic that much,” she apologised.

  The thing was that Brenda didn’t even do such thing. She was apologising for nothing. She’d only asked him whether his wrist had always been blank or not. But instead of saying that it was okay out loud, he found that he only had the energy to nod his head, and smile.

  Teresa sighed. “Well, as much as this has been fun, I think I better get going now. I still have to head back to Uni to work on the costumes,” she announced, turning the conversation into a completely different direction — possibly ending it, too.

  Brenda agreed. “Me too. I still have some papers to fill up back at the general office. Just to confirm my registration, I mean.” She pushed the chair back, and stood up before turning to Newt. “I’ll meet you in a few hours, alright?”

  Newt shrugged while he started to stand up with Brenda, getting ready to leave. “Anything’s fine with me.”

  Teresa’s face brightened up. “Oh! Why don’t you boys show him around the town?” she suggested as she looked between Thomas and Minho. “I mean, he’s new around here too. So, it would be best if you show him around the neighbourhood.”

  Minho frowned, looking guilty. “Oh, man. I would show you around, but I have to get ready for tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night?” Brenda asked.

  “Yep,” the asian confirmed. “I’m throwing a party.”

  Teresa’s smile slipped off her face in disappointment. “Well, Thomas? How about you?” She turned to him. “Could you show Newt around?”

  “I wouldn’t mind showing him around, but I’ve got my shift to get back to,” Thomas replied instantly before adding, “Plus, it’s Monday. I’ll be taking care of Chuck later.”

  Thomas couldn’t imagine what he would do if he was alone with Newt. He’d probably just end up apologising for the incident that had happened earlier over and over again.

  Realisation washed over Teresa. “Right, yeah. I forgot about Chuck.” She blinked. “That sucks.”

  Newt stepped in the conversation. He hadn’t spoken much the whole time he was there so Thomas was surprised hearing his voice again. “No, it’s alright. I have some errands to run anyway.” He shrugged. “Thank you for the idea, though.”

  Minho raised his eyebrow, and Thomas knew exactly what he was thinking.

_   Who says  _ run some errands _ nowadays? _

  Thomas’ lips quirked upwards at the thought. “I should really get back to my shift,” he said as he took a look around. Aris, Frypan, and Harriet were still doing fine without him, but an extra hand wouldn’t hurt. “See you guys soon?”

  They all hummed in agreement, except Newt. At this point, it wasn’t that surprising to Thomas anymore.

  “It was cool meeting you, by the way,” Thomas said he stepped towards Brenda, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m glad it was you,” he whispered into her ear. When they pulled apart, Brenda was smiling at him.

  Teresa looked between the two of them suspiciously. However, she didn’t get a chance to ask what he had just whispered to her when Brenda offered, “Let’s get going then?”

  After exchanging goodbyes, all of them, except Thomas, started leaving the little cafe. Newt didn’t look at Thomas once when they were leaving. Thomas didn’t know why but he kept standing there while watching them leaving until they were all gone. Newt had been the last one to leave the cafe. He let Teresa, Brenda, and Minho leave first. 

  Strangely, Thomas found that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the door even when the sight of Newt’s bright, golden hair was already gone.

** *  *  *  **

  It was nine in the evening when Thomas made his way to pick up Chuck from his house. Monday night meant babysitting night for Thomas. Thursdays, too, and sometimes Sundays.

  He had ended his shift in The Glade at around half past eight, which was quite late considering that The Glade usually closed at eight on normal days. It was safe to say that their sales that day were quite high. But, with higher sales, it also meant more energy being spent to work in the cafe. So, with that going on, it was a mystery to Thomas how he found energy to play with Chuck that night.

  “Chuuuuuck!” Thomas yelled as he started to dash across his apartment, and towards the little, pudgy boy with brown curls, who was chilling on the couch in the living room.

  Chuck’s eyes widened at the sight of Thomas charging towards him. “Thomas, no!” He held up a finger as he started to scramble away from Thomas. “I’m twelve! I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t do this to m—”

  But before Chuck could finish his sentence, Thomas was tickling the boy without any trace of mercy. Chuck erupted in giggles as Thomas continued to tickle him.

  “Thomas!” Chuck screamed between his laughter. “P-Please. Stop!” He continued to giggle before he used all his willpower to push the older boy away. Thomas, of course, had the upper hand when it came to strength. But, after quickly deciding it wasn’t worth it, he let Chuck get away from his grip.

  “That—” Chuck panted. “—was not fun at all.”

  Thomas grinned. “I don’t know about that. Seemed to me you were laughing a lot,” he said. “Doesn’t that mean it was fun?” he teased, wiggling his fingers.

  Chuck defensively took a step away from Thomas. “No,” he said with all finality. “I am not going to let you tickle me. I am twelve — almost thirteen! I need to be a big boy now.”

  Thomas’ smile widened when Chuck said he needed to be a big boy, whatever that meant. It was clearly a sign that he was still a young kid. At least in Thomas’ eyes he was.

  He plopped an elbow on the couch, “Well, in that case, let’s do big boy stuff,” he said. He thought for a second. There wasn’t much he could do with Chuck that they hadn’t done yet. “Do you want to bake?”

  Chuck’s face scrunched up in disgust. “That’s not a big boy thing.”

“Oh, trust me, it sort of is. People will swoon over you. Everyone loves a boy who can make something sweet,” Thomas said a matter of factly.

  Chuck seemed to ponder for a second before agreeing. “Fine, then let’s bake.”

  Thomas grinned triumphantly as he jumped off the couch. “Great! Just let me get the ingredients ready, and after that, we’ll begin,” he chirped as he made his way to the kitchen.

  “Did someone move in next door?” Chuck asked suddenly.

  Thomas nearly dropped the bag of flour he was grabbing from the cupboard above his head. “I, um, yeah. His name’s Newt,” he informed Chuck before asking, “How’d you know?” He turned to the boy, who was watching him get the ingredients ready.

  He shrugged. “I thought I heard a voice outside.”

  “Ah, that makes sense,” Thomas said. 

  No one said a word for a while, giving Thomas the time to think. He felt sort of bad for dropping things on Newt’s feet earlier that day, and not being able to show him around the town. Okay, not sort of bad — really bad. 

  “Be back a second,” Thomas quickly told Chuck as he dashed his way out of the apartment.

  Maybe he could invite Newt to bake with them. Not that he would agree, which Thomas had a feeling that he wouldn’t. But it was worth a try. He wanted to find a way to try and redeem himself. Plus, it could be a good way to get to know him. He was new in the building after all.

  When Thomas was standing outside Newt’s place, he noticed that the door to his apartment was slightly open. He tilted his head, contemplating whether or not he should knock or call out to him instead. But before he could do either, he heard someone yelling inside.

  He furrowed his eyebrows, his feet stuck to the ground as he listened to Newt yelling.

  “Ava, when will understand that she’s my sister?! This is bloody ridiculous.” He heard the boy roar from the other side of the door.

  The door that was slightly pushed open let Thomas see that the blond was on the phone with someone. His face was flushed, and his hair was ruffled. He looked like a mess. Newt was pacing around the room as he listened to the other person on the line — Ava, he’d heard him mention.

  Not wanting to feel like he was intruding any further, Thomas slowly started to take a step back. Even that backfired on him, though, because he tripped, making the floor release a screeching sound. It revealed that he was there. The universe didn’t want him to get away with anything, did it?

  His ears drummed as he heard the yelling abruptly stop. Newt had heard him. His guess was right because almost instantaneously, Newt was standing in front of him. He was holding a phone against his ear. Thomas thought he looked so tired and stressed. He almost felt bad for him even though he didn’t know why.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Thomas said bashfully. “I was just going to invite you to my place to, um, bake muffins with Chuck and me.” He waited for the blond to reply.

  Newt didn’t say anything though. He only looked at Thomas, as if he was searching for something in his face, before pursing his lips, and shaking his head. And once that was out of the way, he closed the door on Thomas.

  Thomas was confused. What was he supposed to think? Was he supposed to say he was sorry? Was he supposed to say that he didn’t mean to see him like that?

  Instead of confusing himself more, he reluctantly went back to his apartment.

  “Thomas? Are you okay?” Chuck asked in confusion. “Where were you?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I just thought I’d do something.” Thomas waved a hand in dismissal, dropping the subject. “Let’s start baking, shall we?”

  That night, while he was baking chocolate-flavoured muffins with Chuck, Thomas found that he couldn’t stop thinking of Newt. He wasn’t thinking about him in _that_ way. He’d just been curious whether or not the whole cold thing he’d been doing was a mask. Thomas walked in on Newt at a time where he was weak. His head pounded thinking about it.

  But even as Thomas tried to push Newt out of his head, the thought of the blond’s tired expression still lingered within him.

 


	4. Il A Besoin D'aide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long. I cared about this fic so much that I started becoming obsessed with the thought that everything I publish has to be perfect. And from then on, I ended up hating whatever I was writing. So yeah, I'm trying to stop thinking that way.
> 
> I'm not sure what I think about this chapter, but I promise I will be updating this fic weekly! I have multiple chapters written and ready to go. So look forward to your Sundays because that's when I'll be putting up new chapters!
> 
> Reach me through [Tumblr](http://www.newtmos.tumblr.com)! My Twitter is currently down so I'm sorry for the inconvenience.
> 
> Thanks for your patience. <3

 

  Thomas hopped his way to the kitchen and made a quick grab for his keys from the table before scanning the whole place one last time. He was normally one to forget things, so he thought it would be safer to be sure he hadn't this time. Humming in satisfaction, he made his way out of the apartment.

  It was a relatively warm Tuesday afternoon, and sadly, there hadn't been a single moment when Thomas could say he was completely free. Well, except for those little pee breaks here and there. But other than that, none at all. Since early that morning when he began his shift in The Glade, he'd been on his feet.

  For a moment, Thomas felt relieved when Jorge said he could finish his duty at noon. Jorge knew that he'd stayed up late the night before taking care of Chuck. Thomas didn't know how the old man got the information (although he suspected it was probably Minho), but he didn't show an ounce of confusion because hey, he got the rest of the day off.

  Although he was feeling ridiculously tired and could use a little bit of rest, Thomas was on his way to pick Teresa and Brenda up from their campus to grab something to eat. And once that was out of the way, they'd all agreed to make their way back to the apartment just in time for Minho’s party.

  How he was still standing on his two feet, Thomas didn't have a single clue. All he knew right then and there was that he could use some food to recharge his body.

  Thomas fished his phone out of his pocket, and started typing down a short message to let Teresa know that he was on his way. While he was tapping away on his phone, he noticed someone making their way up the stairs. He looked up from his illuminated device, and saw bright, blond hair – Newt.

  "Hey," Thomas greeted, shortly waving his free hand. He didn't really know what to say after what he'd seen last night, nor did he have the free time to think of what he could say to him. So, he said what he could think of first: "So… you were out, huh?"

  Thomas smiled after the phrase slipped out of his mouth even though deep inside, embarrassment pulsed through his veins. It was an _incredibly_ painful smile. He could only guess how ridiculous he sounded. And the way Newt looked at him with an accusing look made it worse.

  "Yes, I was," Newt answered as walked up the stairs. "How did you know? What, you a bloody psychic or something?" he added sarcastically. A small frown made its way to Thomas's face when he noticed how the blond was slightly swaying.

  Only then did Thomas notice the glass of beer Newt was gripping onto in one of his hands. "Alcohol?" he asked, ignoring the sarcastic comment he had just been given. "Isn't it a bit too early for that?"

  Once Newt was on his level on the stairs, he replied to the brunet. "You are so full of questions,” he replied, which was followed with a dry smile spreading across his face.

  Thomas could smell the strong stench of cigarettes and alcohol coming off from the boy. Deciding that Newt wasn’t in his best condition to talk, he ignored it.

  "Minho," Thomas started saying, steering the conversation into another direction, "he's having a party in our apartment tonight. Everyone's going, including Brenda."

  Newt furrowed his eyebrows. "And you're telling me this, why?"

  Thomas cleared his throat as he tried to compose himself. "You should go. It’ll be fun.”

  The blond snorted. "You want me to attend a social event where people do nothing but drink their arses off and talk to each other like they actually care about the crap the other bloke is saying?"

 Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he blinked, unable to form a coherent sentence.

  Newt must have seen how Thomas didn't know how to reply because he filled in the silence with a sigh. "Perhaps I'll make an appearance, but don't count on it," Newt said before starting to make his way up the stairs again, past Thomas. His glass of beer made a clinking sound as it hit the stairway railings lightly.

  "Newt," Thomas called out, turning around to face him. He forced himself to look at Newt in the eye. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but you really shouldn't be drinking that sort of stuff at this hour.”

  Newt stopped and looked back at Thomas. Newt was looking at him the same way he did back in the cafe when he talked about his blank wrist. It was the same look Thomas knew wasn't pity.

  But even then, Thomas couldn't decipher the look, because it broke off when a wry smile made its way to Newt's face. Newt raised the glass of beer in the air, as if he was making a toast, and took a long swig, before using the back of his hand to wipe the excess off his mouth.

  "Newt…," Thomas started to say in concern.

  But before Thomas could go on with what he was going to say, Newt pointed at the phone in Thomas’s hand. "Your phone just lit up. You probably got a text," he said.

  Thomas looked at his phone and saw that he did in fact receive a text. It was from Teresa, and she was asking him about his whereabouts. When he looked back up, he saw that the blond was gone and nowhere to be seen. He probably continued back up the staircase while Thomas was distracted.

  That was the most Newt had talked to him, and he wasn't very certain whether he'd say it was a conversation he’d like to have again. Sighing, Thomas turned back around and started to walk down the stairs while he tapped away a reply to Teresa.

 

***   *   ***

 

  The university campus was big. The main building alone was the size of multiple basketball courts. In front of it was a massive piece of grassland where benches were conveniently placed right under huge trees in case a hot summer day arrived. A good amount of students were spread out around the campus; some of them were walking in and out of different buildings; and some were merely sitting on the yard doing their own work.

  It obviously wasn’t the biggest campus out there, but it definitely was large enough for Thomas to wonder whether or not he was ever going to find Teresa and Brenda at all. He’d almost considered meeting them in McDonald’s instead if he hadn’t spotted Teresa and Brenda sitting under a tree.

  Thomas watched as Brenda read a book aloud while Teresa rested her head on Brenda’s shoulder and listened. He smiled and grabbed his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of the two just relaxing in their own little world. They would thank him for it in the future (perhaps in their wedding). Once he was done, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and started to make his way to them.

  “So what are you guys reading?” Thomas asked once he was close enough for them to hear.

  The two girls looked up at Thomas as Teresa answered for the both of them, “A guide on how to murder someone who always shows up late.”

  Brenda agreed as she closed the book and read the cover, “By William Shakespeare.”

  Thomas laughed. “Never knew the guy liked murder.”

  “Have you not read Romeo and Juliet?” Teresa asked as they both started to gather their things. “Literally involves a lot of killing.”

  “Well, I will be the one doing the killing if I don’t get food in my digestive system soon,” Thomas pointed out, patting his stomach. “Let’s go.”

 

***   *   ***

 

  Thomas pushed the door to McDonald’s open while Teresa and Brenda followed him from behind. Thomas walked to the free table near the window he spotted once they stepped in, and motioned for the girls in the booth. “Should I be the one to order us our heaven-sent food?” he asked.

  “Don’t be silly,” Teresa said with a wave of her hands. “You two stay here while I do the ordering. I haven’t made up my mind on what I want to get yet anyway. I’ll think of it while I’m queuing up.”

  Brenda gave Teresa a quick and sweet kiss on the cheek. “Sure thing,” she said before she sat inside the booth.

  Teresa smiled back in contentment making Thomas watched the two in amusement. “Go get us some food then.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m starving.”

  Teresa rolled her eyes and turned around to head off to queue up while Thomas proceeded to sit in the space opposite of Brenda.

  Thomas noticed a soft smile resting on Brenda’s lips as she stared outside of the window. “A penny for your thoughts?” Thomas asked.

  Brenda turned to look at him with an expression of wonder. “It’s just nice, that’s all.” She sighed contently. “I mean all of this,” she said, her eyes darting out the window, “it’s different from… the orphanage. A nice different.”

  “Is it really?” he asked. “I thought you’d think we were a chaotic mess. Especially with Min and I around.” Thomas let out a snort.

  Brenda bubbled up in laughter. “Well,” she said, “I mean it’s nice to have something different, if that makes sense. I mean, Newt is a wonderful friend. I love him to bits,” she said as Thomas listened. “But he’s the silent type, you know? He doesn’t share much.” She shrugged.

  Thomas nodded in understanding. “Yeah, he seems like the silent type. He didn’t talk much when he came to the cafe yesterday,” he observed.

  Brenda sighed. “Yeah… he wasn’t always like that,” she told him. “Shocking thing is Newt used to be more open, but I guess a lot of things happened.”

  Thomas looked at Brenda expectantly, hoping to hear more about Newt’s past, but she didn’t say anything further. He didn’t exactly know how they got to talking about Newt, but it was happening. Thomas looked away for a second and bit his lip, wondering if he should mention what he’d seen the night before, as well as the situation that had happened that morning. She was his closest friend after all.

  “About Newt…,” Thomas started to say. Brenda looked up at him. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I’m actually, quite – really concerned for him,” he said softly.

  Brenda’s face scrunched up in concern. “What do you mean? Is he okay?”

  Thomas brought a hand to rub his face. “That’s the thing,” he sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t know if he’s okay. I bumped into him just before I met up with you guys, and the smell of cigarettes and alcohol was so strong on him,” he said. “It was noon, Brenda. He’s been drinking in daylight. Is that normal for him?”

  Brenda stared at him, looking as if she’d been surprised by what she had just been revealed with. “Wait, are you sure…?” she asked.

  Thomas nodded, confirming what he had seen. “Yes, I even talked to him about how he shouldn’t be drinking, but he just smiled and drank some more before he left.” He frowned before leaning forward. “It’s just… he’s not an alcoholic, is he?”

  Brenda replied quickly, shaking her head. “No way, he rarely drinks at all,” she said, sounding as puzzled as Thomas was. “I can understand if he’s smoking because he does that once in a while, but drinking? That’s unlike him.” She looked away, starting to look a bit stressed.

  Seeing Brenda worried, Thomas immediately started to feel the guilt creeping up in him. “Brenda, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up now. I just. I was just concerned for your friend,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

  Brenda turned back to look at him, and gave him a small smile. “No, it’s okay. It’s better if I know earlier,” she said. “I just wish he’d told me something. I mean, I know that he’s going through a lot of rough patches right now.” She shrugged. “We both are.”

  Thomas nodded, before Brenda continued. “I mean, us moving out this far is a huge step for both of us having lived in an orphanage our whole lives. I just can’t find myself to pinpoint what exactly might be troubling him,” she said. “There was something before we left but I thought that was settled….”

  Thomas’ ears perked up. “What was it?”

  Brenda bit her lip, thinking whether she should tell him or not. Deciding that she shouldn’t, she shook her head. “It’s not my place to tell. I’m sorry, Thomas.”

  “His sister,” Thomas blurted out. He almost regretted saying it when Brenda’s full attention snapped to him. She was looking at him with her eyebrows raised, expecting him to elaborate. “You said Newt changed because a lot of things happened. It’s about his sister, isn’t it?”

  Brenda’s expression hardened. “How did you know?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Did he telling you anything today?” she asked unbelievably, knowing that Newt wasn’t just the type to say things that are private.

  Thomas quickly shook his head. “No, he barely shared anything. If anything, the whole thing was just me trying to invite him to Minho’s party.” He laughed drily and brought a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I actually – I heard him say something on the phone last night.”

  Brenda blinked. “So now you’re stalking him? Thomas, I’m literally his best friend. I can’t let you do tha–”

  “Oh my God, no!” Thomas intervened. The way Brenda was looking at him with an accusing look made him uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and composed himself before speaking up again to explain himself. “I meant to invite him over to my place last night,” he informed her. Brenda raised an eyebrow before Thomas quickly added, “To bake muffins with Chuck and I.”

  Brenda sighed and ran a hand through her hair, not knowing how to react anymore. “Go on.”

  Thomas let out a huff of air. “Before I even got near to knocking on his door, I heard someone yelling really loudly. It wasn’t long before I realized Newt was on the phone,” he said. “I mean what else could it be, right? Anyway, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I promise. I was just fixed on the spot.”

  Brenda looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “He was yelling something about his sister. That’s all I heard before he heard me trip outside his door.”

  “Before you _what?_ ”

  Thomas quickly defended himself. “It was a stressful moment!”

  Brenda shook her head. “Is there anything else that you heard him say or was that it? What was he saying about his sister?”

  “No, I didn’t really understand anything he was saying. I don’t even know anything about his sister.” Thomas shrugged. “I did hear him say a name, though. I’m pretty sure it was… Ava?”

  “Fuck,” Brenda cursed under her breath.

  Thomas was confused. “Who is she?”

  Brenda bit her tongue. “She’s – she’s nobody important,” she said, avoiding eye contact with Thomas. “Let’s just lay off Newt for a while, okay? He hasn’t really been the same since we moved. He’ll warm up to us in a matter of time,” she said before turning back to look at Thomas. “You don’t have to worry,” she added, pursing her lips, though it didn’t take away the concern Thomas had for Newt. He let it go, though.

  “Sure, I think I can do that,” Thomas said, adding a smile towards the end. “Maybe he’ll even start to open up at Minho’s party tonight. Minho’s one wild and loud guy. Perhaps he can drag Newt out of his little bubble,” Thomas joked.

  Brenda laughed. All the tension seemed to seep away from their table, making Thomas glad the atmosphere around them seemed more relaxed again. “Minho does seem like someone who can break open people’s shells. I can only imagine how many times he’s embarrassed you guys,” she said as another laugh erupted from her.

  Thomas groaned and rubbed his face. “Oh God, you don’t even know. I honestly would have him murdered right now if it weren’t for the fact he’s my best friend,” he said.

  Before Brenda could reply, Teresa joined them at their table. “I’m back with our unhealthy delicacies!” she chirped as she nodded towards the tray of food she was holding.

  “Oh, thank _God_ ,” Thomas said. “I need to eat something right now. I feel like I’m going to fall dead on the floor if I don’t feed my system something after all the work I’ve done today,” he continued as Teresa gently placed the tray of food and drinks onto the table.

  Teresa sat next to Brenda as she started to give separate their orders. “Then eat up, you baby boy,” she said. “The day might almost be over, but the night is just about to begin.” She grinned.

  “Minho’s party!” Brenda piped in. “I’ve never been to a proper party in my life, so I’m really excited to finally attend one.”

  Thomas scrunched up his face as he grabbed the wrapped burger Teresa was holding out to him. “You should be excited,” he said. “Trust me when I say there’s always something interesting going on in Minho’s parties.”

  Teresa pointed at Thomas in agreement and nodded her head. “That’s very, very true. Minho has this amazing talent of making conversations very interesting – in a weird way.”

  Thomas nodded as Brenda raised her eyebrows, expecting more elaboration. “Mhm. The last time he held a party, he got the whole group into a ridiculously deep conversation about how koalas have sex,” he said before taking a bite from his burger.

  Brenda, who’d just been taking a sip from her drink, choked up. “ _What?_ ” she asked in disbelief. “You’re pulling my leg,” she said, “right?”

  Teresa and Thomas exchanged grins. “Even I wish Tom’s kidding, but it seriously happened,” Teresa said.

  Brenda shook her head in amusement. “That makes me even more excited for the party now that I’ve been handed this information.”

  Teresa laughed. “Oh, you’ll love Minho, for sure,” she said, popping a french fry into her mouth. “Get ready for the storm that’s coming.”

 

***  *  ***

 

  Surprisingly, the three of them didn’t take long to complete their food. Although, it was most probably because Thomas basically swallowed all of his food without chewing them. And also maybe because stole some food from Teresa. Not that Teresa didn’t notice, of course. It was safe to say Thomas was going to pay for Teresa the next time they eat together. Thomas really needed to learn how to be more discreet. He’d recently started to realize how much he actually sucked at this whole ninja-stealth thing. But that wasn’t his concern. Not yet anyway. It was time to have a little of fun first.

  The three of them immediately made their way back to the apartment to attend Minho’s party, which Thomas still thought was rather odd. They were literally attending a party that a person was holding in their own living space. From outside of their own apartment, they could hear loud music booming through the door.

  “Is it normally this loud at parties?” Brenda asked, turning to Teresa and Thomas. She had to speak up a little louder to get her message across.

  Teresa laughed. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Parties can be loud, that’s for sure, but not necessarily as loud as Minho likes it.”

  Thomas looked at the both of them, his hand resting on the door handle. “You guys ready to go in?”

  The two girls nodded in confirmation. Thomas nodded back, and turned to open the door. And once it was open, Thomas felt like he was slapped in the face with a brick by the God of music.

  Thomas could feel the beat on his feet. He almost felt as if his heart was beating along to the rhythm of the Bruno Mars song that was currently blasting across the whole apartment.

  “Heeeeey!” someone yelled over the music. Thomas turned to see Minho walking towards them with his arms wide open, a glass of what Thomas guessed was hard liquor in his hand. “You guys made it!” he said as he engulfed each of them in hugs.

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “Of course we made it, Min,” he said. “It’s literally our place.”

  Minho poked his cheek, his glass of alcohol touching Thomas’s face for a second. “You’ve said that so many times in my lifetime that I think it’s been hardwired into my brain.”

  Teresa and Brenda laughed while Thomas took the liberty of giving Minho a shove on the shoulder. “Oh, piss off.” Thomas laughed.

  “As much as this is fun, I’ll go bring Brenda around and introduce her to everyone,” Teresa said as she linked her arm with Brenda’s. “See ya both later?”

  “I’ll go with you guys!” Minho chirped enthusiastically. He said it with so much energy that Thomas would have thought the alcohol was already starting to kick in if Thomas didn’t know it was really how Minho acted.

  Thomas nodded in agreement. “Go ahead. I’m gonna go around and catch up with the guys.”

  “Okay!” Teresa said before dragging Brenda away, who was laughing at Teresa. Thomas watched as Minho followed the two girls like an excited puppy. Laughing, Thomas turned around and walked towards the kitchen to get himself something to drink.

  Even though he’d really rather be sleeping right now on his bed (which sounded tremendously lovely), he found that he was actually having fun. And it barely even started. He nodded his head to the rhythm of the music while he made his way over to the kitchen.

  “Thomas!”

  “Oh, hey, Winston!” Thomas greeted his friend in surprise as he stepped in the kitchen. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while,” he asked as gave Winston a short hug and a pat on the back.

  Winston chuckled. “You know how it is; homework, projects, and basically no time for anything else at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Man, I don’t know how Teresa does it.”

  Thomas started pouring himself a glass of whatever beer Minho set up on the counter. “Does what?”

  Winston leaned on the desk. “For starters, she’s majoring in fashion. Need I remind you that fashion is one of the most time consuming majors in the _entire_ world?” he exaggerated, throwing his hands in the air. Thomas laughed while Winston continued. “And she still manages to find time to work in The Glade,” Winston shook his head in disbelief. Or wonder. Thomas wasn’t sure which, but they both seemed to fit.

  “Hang in there. You can survive another round if you’ve survived a semester before,” Thomas said, taking a sip from his drink. It burned the back of his throat for a moment, prompting Thomas to make a face.

  “I’ve barely been surviving at all.” Winston snorted. “Uni is so stressful. Honestly don’t know how these guys are surviving.”

  Thomas looked at him. “That reminds me, how’s Jeff been lately? Haven’t seen him in a bit.”

  Winston shifted his posture. “Jeff? I suppose he’s all right,” he said. Thomas smiled, noticing the slight blush creeping up the boy’s olive cheeks.

  “Now that we’re talking about him, where is Jeff? Did he say he was coming to the party tonight?” Thomas asked, taking another sip from his glass.

  “How would I know where Jeff is?” Winston asked defensively. “Jeff could be anywhere for all we know.”

  Thomas started laughing at Winston. He was about to reply, but was interrupted when another boy joined their conversation.

  “Hey, guys!

  Thomas turned around to see Jeff making his way towards the both of them. The way Winston shifted from one foot to another uncomfortably didn’t go unnoticed by Thomas when Jeff was finally right in front of them. He had to bite his lip from grinning.

  “Hey, Jeff,” Thomas greeted him casually with a wave of a hand.

  “Hi, Jeff,” Winston said in a slightly higher octave than when he had been speaking with Thomas earlier.

  Jeff smiled at the both of them as he grabbed an empty cup and started pouring himself a drink. “Minho’s calling you to go over there,” he said as he nodded towards the living room couch where a lot of people seemed to be staying at.

  Thomas tilted his head to the side. “What for?”

  “Nothing in particular, I think. I was just there and they were talking about Teresa and her girl,” Jeff supplied. “They’re probably sharing stories.”

  As if on cue, laughter erupted from the living room. Thomas watched as Brenda retold their story while Teresa hid her face behind her hand in embarrassment. Everyone else in the living room – Frypan, Harriet, Gally, Ben, and Minho – were grinning, listening to Brenda’s intently. It made Thomas happy to know that Brenda seemed to be getting along with everyone well.

  “I’ll head over there, if you guys don’t mind?” Thomas asked Jeff and Winston.

  Jeff answered for Winston and himself. “Sure. We can always catch up later.”

  From the side, Thomas could see Winston shaking his head, not wanting him to leave them alone. When Winston was about to counter to the idea, Jeff added, “I’ll stay with Winston.”

  Winston dropped his head in defeat while Thomas grinned. “I’ll be back for both of you later,” he said before he turned away from them, his drink in his hand, and walked to the living room where everyone seemed to be laughing.

  “I have arrived,” Thomas announced as he took the liberty of sitting on one end of the couch along with Frypan, Harriet, and Minho. Gally and Ben were both sitting on the floor while Teresa and Brenda shared an armchair.

  He was met with greetings from around the living room, but Gally’s was the loudest. “Ugly face! Finally decided to bring your fat ass here, huh?” Gally called out with a snort. His voice was raspy like it always had been.

  Thomas faced the others. “I didn’t think Gally here would be so happy to see me again,” he said as he placed a hand on his chest, causing an eruption of chuckles and giggles. “I feel so flattered,” he added, turning to face a grinning Gally once again.

  “Since you’re obviously so good at reading people, do you think you can guess which finger I’m holding up behind my back right now?” Gally asked sweetly.

  Thomas rolled his eyes in amusement, not bothering to answer Gally any further. “So what are we doing?” he asked, setting his drink on the coffee table right in front of him.

  “Brenda’s been telling us how Teresa here was unprepared when they first met,” Ben, who was sat beside Gally, said.

  Teresa groaned and said, “Can we move on from this, please?” she said incredulously. “I’d really rather hear some of your stories instead of talking about my horrific self.”

  And that was how the most of their night went. Different stories were exchanged around the living room; some stories told were old and had been shared many times; and some stories told were new. Thomas’s personal favourite were the old stories they bring up because he always thought it was nice to relive memories of when they were younger. It was normally how most of Minho’s parties went.

  Everything was calm and going smoothly for a while. Thomas didn’t really know how it happened, but they were listening to Minho talk about how he was jealous that butterflies could spend most of their lives sleeping.

  “I just really think it’s unfair,” Minho said so passionately that he never noticed the drink he was holding had been spilling on him whenever he moved his hand.

  “I agree,” Harriet joined the conversation in Minho’s side. “Butterflies literally get to sleep for one-third of their lifetime sleeping _and_ wake up with beautifully designed wings.”

  Minho threw his free hand in the air. “Exactly!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know about you guys, but this beautiful piece of art–” Minho motioned to his face. “–did not come to me just by sleeping.”

  Teresa nodded pointedly. “That’s true. I’ve been to his house many times, and trust me when I say he has the best of the best beauty products. The face cream, especially.”

  “I can testify to that,” Thomas piped in.

  This went on for surprisingly a good amount of time before Frypan interrupted the conversation suddenly.

  “Wait.” The baker straightened himself on the couch, an expression of alarm quickly washing over his face. Everyone around the couch was slowly hushed into silence by Frypan’s sudden outburst, confusion hanging around them while they looked at him expectantly. “Do you guys hear that?”

  Minho was the first one to voice himself out. He eyebrows were knitted together when he asked, “Hear what?” before adding, “The music, you mean?” A small but playful smirk rested on the boy’s lips.

  A few snickers escaped from the mouths of a few, but Thomas didn’t mind them. He waited for Frypan to continue.

  Frypan waved a hand at Minho, completely dismissing his comment. “I don’t think so, man. I’m sure it’s not the music…” He was starting to look frustrated at not figuring out the source of the noise. “Turn down the music a bit.”

  “I’ll do it,” Thomas volunteered. He bent over the couch, and grabbed the remote of the stereo from the little table sitting right in front of him. Jabbing the button multiple times, the volume of the music started to quiet down.

  A number of people around the apartment craned their necks and turned to look at them, wondering what had happened to the music that had just been blaring. Thomas didn’t seem to mind too much, though. How could he if he heard a repetitive cycle of glass shattering onto the floor? It sounded as if someone was playing baseball, and was using plates as balls.

   _Crash. Crash. Crash._

  Thomas, along with everybody else, was stunned to silence. He watched as the playfulness Minho had just been was instantly replaced with alarm. “What the hell is that, and what the hell is going on?” Minho demanded for answers, but no one could give him any. “It doesn’t sound like it’s coming from here.”

  “Yeah, it’s definitely not,” Thomas said with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We would have known right away if it was.”

  “Then what?” Teresa jumped in the conversation. Thomas turned to her and saw that she was still sitting on Brenda’s lap. “Our neighbours aren’t loud at all. Why wou—”

  “Newt.” His name came out of Thomas’s mouth in a whisper as realisation washed over him.

  Teresa arched her eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s got to be Newt.” Thomas was in a frantic as he rushed to get his words out. “There’s no other explanation.”

  And as if on cue, the shrilling sounds of glass hitting against the wall started to become more aggressive and angrier. Thomas’s heart, for some unknown reason, started to thump wildly against his chest. Thomas was worried.

  “Oh my god, he’s right.” Brenda looked like she was going to be sick. “We have to go. We have to go _now_.”

  Thomas, completely driven by worry, quickly got on his feet. Minho stood up next, and announced that they were going to be back shortly. He heard some people shoot a couple of questions, but Thomas couldn’t find it in himself to answer. He couldn’t even concentrate.

  It certainly wasn’t long before Brenda was on her feet too. Teresa was standing next to her. He looked at Brenda with worry painted all over his face. He nodded at her as if to say ‘ _Let’s go._ ’

  And the next thing Thomas knew, he was rushing to exit the apartment. Brenda was right next to him, following the quick pace of the brunet. Thomas heard Teresa and Minho following shortly behind them.

  When Thomas got to the door of Newt’s apartment, that was when he knew that he was right. The worrying sounds were coming from his apartment.

  With others just behind him, he started knocking furiously at the blond’s door. His knuckles were pounding against the dark wood as he shouted, “Newt, it’s us!”

  It was clear that Newt didn’t hear them. Thomas continued to hear glass being thrown roughly to the wall. With each _thump_ that the glass made against the wall, Thomas felt his heart beat with it. And hearing Newt yell and scream from the other side of the door didn’t help at all.

  “You bloody wanker!” A heavily accented voice yelled. It sounded muffled, but it was no doubt Newt.

  Thomas turned to look at Brenda, his eyes searching for something in her own. He didn’t know what to do. He found it difficult to stay still. Brenda looked so terrified and worried Thomas thought that maybe she was going to cry. But she didn’t.

  Instead, she took initiative and stepped around Thomas and in front of the wooden door. “Newt!” She started banging on the door as hard as she could. “Newt, it’s Brenda. Open the door!”

  Thomas looked at Teresa. She, as did the rest of them, looked concerned. Her eyebrows were knitted together and she was tugging on the thin bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Minho was similar. His eyes were trained on Brenda pounding on the door. Thomas noticed Minho’s clenched hands, as if he was ready to knock the door down if he had to.

  No one responded. The door remained closed, and the screaming and yelling from the British boy kept going. The sounds of glass shattering following another after another.

  Brenda seemed to have had enough of being worried, her hand banging the door into one aggressive thud. “Open the damn door, Newt!”

  Thomas heard Teresa take in a sharp breath at the harshness of Brenda’s tone.

  The shrilling noises stopped as soon as Brenda’s knuckle made hard contact with the door. There was a moment of silence inside the apartment, but the door remained closed. Thomas glanced at Brenda, who was shaking, clutching her hand. Thomas’s thoughts were racing as he listened to the sound of footsteps stepping over broken glass, each breaking into smaller fragmented pieces.

  And slowly, there was a click on the lock, and the door opened.

  Thomas almost felt his feelings collapse on him.

  Newt looked so broken. His hair was messed up, sticking up in every direction. There were bags hanging below his eyes, clearly showing how exhausted he’d been. His eyes were red and puffy. They looked like they had just been crying. Thomas couldn’t even bring himself to look at Newt without feeling like contracting into a shell.

  “Brenda,” Newt croaked as he felt tears stinging the back of his eyes. He dropped his head into his hands, his blond hair falling over his face, before he completely broke down.

  “Oh, Newt,” she said, her voice cracking at the sight of her best friend. Brenda didn’t hesitate to rush towards the boy. She quickly wrapped her arms around him protectively. “What happened?”

  Thomas didn’t realize he had been clenching his fists so tight until he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned around to see Teresa, who, like everybody else, looked concerned.

  “Let’s help him fix the mess inside,” she said lowly as her eyes darted to Newt’s apartment. Thomas turned to look back at the boy’s place, and noticed broken glasses of beer sitting on the floor. Plates even.

  Thomas nodded shortly. “Okay.”

  Teresa searched his face for something. Anything, really. But she decided not to comment on the short remark. “I’ll go get the broom then.” She turned around and rushed to go back into their apartment.

  Thomas almost forgot Minho was there with them until he spoke up.

  “I’ll go with her,” Minho said before heading off the direction Teresa had just disappeared into.

  Thomas wasn’t sure what to do. All he could do was stand by the side as Brenda continued to coax the boy. He watched miserably as Newt shook in his best friend’s arms, his sobs escaping his body like blood seeping out of an open wound.

  He heard movement behind him, and saw that Teresa and Minho returned with a broom and some other things that could clean up the mess of shattered glass and alcohol that was pooling on the floor inside.

  Minho handed Thomas a large garbage bag. “Help Tes clean the mess up,” he said. “I’ll go back to inside to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “Yeah, go do that. We’ll be fine.” Thomas assured. “Go back in there. You are the host after all.”

  Minho’s lips twisted into a half-smile at Thomas’s lame attempt to lighten the mood. He shook his head before he turned his back and headed back to their apartment.

  Meanwhile, Thomas turned back to Brenda and Newt. Newt finally had his head off Brenda’s shoulder, but he refused to look up and kept his gaze down on the floor. Brenda gently put an arm around his shoulder, and guided him inside of the apartment.

  Teresa looked up at Thomas, gave him an assuring nod, and followed Brenda into the apartment. Thomas trailed behind Teresa.

  Thomas felt overwhelmed the moment he took a step inside Newt’s apartment.

  A heavy stench of alcohol hit him like he’d been attacked by a strong wave. The smell of beer was so strong that Thomas swore he could almost taste it. His eyes darted from one broken shard of glass to another on the floor. He could even feel them cracking at the heel of his shoes every time he took a step. It was a proper mess.

  Brenda continued to walk Newt to his bedroom. His head was hanging low. Thomas noticed how Newt hadn’t looked at anyone in the eye.

  Thomas sighed to himself. He wanted to do something. Be useful in a way, but he could’t because he didn’t know what he was being thrown into. It almost frustrated him. Almost.

  Brenda reached over to the doorknob of Newt’s bedroom and opened the door for him. She leaned in and whispered something to Newt, to which he replied with a weak nod before slipping into his bedroom.

  “You guys really don’t have to do all this,” she said gently, nodding towards the broom Teresa was holding in her hands, as well as the black garbage bag that Thomas was gripping. “Go back to the party, and have some time of fun.”

  Teresa was quick to respond. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “What’s going on right now is obviously much more important than the party. We don’t mind,” she assured her. Brenda’s eyes looked as if they softened. “Really.”

  Thomas nodded, agreeing with Teresa. “Besides, we’ve been to a heck ton of parties hosted by Minho,” he added, trying to lighten the mood, even though if it was just by a little bit.

  A small smile made its way to Brenda’s face. “Thank you,” she said so genuinely, Thomas felt so happy that Teresa had gotten her as a soulmate. Brenda turned back around and walked into the bedroom, where Newt had just entered, and shut the door behind her.

  Teresa and Thomas stared at each other for a few seconds, before Teresa broke the silence by clasping her hands together. “Let’s get this mess fixed, shall we?” she announced.

  Thomas would’ve snorted and made a witty remark if it wasn’t for the tense atmosphere that hung drily in the air. Thomas looked around. The place was a mess. There were more broken bottles of beer that laid shattered on the floor than Thomas could find himself to count.

  Teresa made her way near the main door, and started sweeping the broken pieces of glass, gathering them into one huge pile so that the floor could be safer to step on. Thomas, on the other hand, bent down and started carefully extracting the larger pieces from the floor, and dumping them inside the plastic bag.

  They weren’t sure if they could talk. Well, they could, of course. But the atmosphere was so tense and heavy that they didn’t know if they should, so Thomas was surprised when Teresa spoke up.

 “Hey, Tom?” Teresa asked softly after a couple moments of pure silence. “What do you think happened in here? Actually, what do you think happened to him? To make him do what happened here.”

  Thomas looked up from the floor and glanced at Teresa, who was still sweeping the glass from the floor. “Even I wish I knew,” he replied.

  Teresa turned to look at Thomas. “You know, when we first met him, I was trying to ignore it, but he seemed really cold and distant,” she admitted. “And I was confused at first, because, to be honest, he just didn’t seem the type that Brenda would hang around. He’s kind of… closed off.”

  “But seeing something like this,” she continued, motioning towards the pile of glass she’d managed to gather, “it kind of made me realize that maybe he’s something much more than he’s making us believe he is.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, nodding his head.

  Thomas had thought about that. Especially after he’d seen the blond arguing over the phone the night he’d decided to come over to invite him to the apartment with Chuck.

  There was clearly something that was bothering the blond. He just didn’t know what it was, and even though they didn’t know each other that well, he wished he did. And all because strangely enough, he found himself wanting to help.

  “Tes?” Thomas called out. Teresa looked up from sweeping. She was almost done with clearing up the floor, and only had a few spots left to clear up before the floor was ready to be wiped. “Who knew you were insightful under that mean cover?”

  Teresa grabbed the hand towel from the table and chucked it at Thomas. “Asshole.”

  A small laugh escaped Thomas, almost magically lifting the tension and heaviness that had left its mark in the apartment.

  “Glad to know laughter still made its way into the night,” a voice said from behind.

  Thomas turned around to see Brenda smiling. She looked exhausted, but not as exhausted as Newt seemed to look. Thomas had to force himself to try and forget the look of how broken he was. It was almost heart-breaking.

  “Brenda?” Thomas asked. “Is he – is he okay?”

  Brenda’s eyes darted to him, and nodded. “He will be,” she replied. “He’s taking a cold shower in there right now to calm his nerves.”

  Thomas sighed in relief. “Oh, that’s good. I thought he’d hurt himself somehow from breaking that many bottles of beer.”

  “Me too. Thankfully, he’s fine,” Brenda said. “He’s not even drunk,” she added.

  Thomas shot an eyebrow at that. He had expected him to be with that much alcohol lying around. As if reading his thoughts, Brenda replied, “He was just emotionally unstable, it’s all. Plus, Newt’s pretty drained right now. He just needs to rest.”

  Thomas nodded, and bit his lip before opening his mouth again to ask, “Brenda, what happened?”

  Brenda smiled drily. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  Thomas was just a bit disappointed, not totally. He’d half expected that that would be the answer.

  “Anyway,” Brenda said, clasping her hands, “where’s the pharmacy around here? Newt said his head was aching, and I offered to buy some painkillers,” she explained. “Thing is, I don’t know how to navigate myself around the area since I’m still new to the neighbourhood,” she said obviously.

  “I can go with you,” Teresa said, setting aside the broom. “It’s just around the corner. I’m sure it won’t take long to grab some pills.”

  Brenda looked relieved. “Thanks, I thought I’d have to look for it myself.”

  “No problem,” Teresa replied. “Let’s go before it’s too late.”

  Brenda nodded and started to walk towards the door before she stopped to face Thomas. “By the way, Thomas, you can go back to your place. It’s getting pretty late.”

  Thomas shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll finish up cleaning around here first. It’s not that big of a deal,” he said.

  Brenda smiled. “Thank you,” she said before following Teresa, who was already out the door.

  Thomas let out a deep breath once they were gone. He was gripping the black garbage bag in one hand, and a piece of broken glass on the other. Sighing, he dumped the piece into the bag.

  It wasn’t because he was exhausted.

  He just wished he knew what was going on so he could see whether or not there something he could do to help. He hadn’t known Newt for long. But even then, as ridiculously cliché it sounded, he felt like he actually knew him.

  The first time they had met, Thomas already picked up the signal that the blond wasn’t really leaning onto the… kind side. He knew straight away that Newt was cold and perhaps even vain. But rude? No way. He didn’t believe that one bit.

  Thomas knew exactly what Newt was doing, because he saw Newt in himself. Newt was hiding his feelings under a masquerade of expressions that told a different story. Like Thomas.

  He would always hide how upset he was over having a blank, empty wrist. He’d hide that under expressions of happiness in several occasions. But even then, there was still a little difference between the both of them. Thomas would only have to do that whenever he needed to. Most of the time, his smiles were genuine. Newt, on the other hand, was the opposite. Ever since Thomas had met him, he’d always been cold and dark, never once breaking the mask to show the real him.

  Until tonight.

  Seeing the boy come crumbling down in Brenda’s arms made him feel something. Just the thought of seeing someone who’d been hiding behind a wall of bricks they’d built around themselves falling down all at once almost made Thomas lose his breath.

  “Thomas.”

  Startled, Thomas jumped, swerving around to the source of the voice.

  Standing there was Newt. His hair was dripping wet, and the small droplets of water sliding down his shirt from his neck didn’t go unnoticed. Newt’s hair looked darker, too, and was messily rested on the side of his face. It was as if he’d casually ran his fingers through them to get them to look that way.

  “Newt, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Thomas said, a bit embarrassed. From all the times they’d come across each other, he’d always been the one that was caught off guard, and he was getting pretty much tired of it. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this. I always feel like a deer in the headlights whenever we see each other. We don’t see each other a lot, I know that, but I’m sure you know what I mean.”

  Newt blinked. “Sure, I do.”

  On a normal day, Thomas would have continued rambling because that was just who he was. But he remembered what the boy had just gone through, and so he forced himself to keep his word vomit down. “I, um. Are you okay? It was sort of a mess when we got here,” Thomas said, nodding towards the bag of broken pieces of glass he was still gripping onto in his hand.

  Newt’s eyes darted away from the boy for a second, finding it difficult to look at him. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Newt was ashamed Thomas had seen him like that. Noticing the expression on the blond’s face, Thomas quickly added, “It wasn’t that big of a mess, though. It was very small actually. Baby small.”

  But that didn’t seem to shift the tension in the air. “You didn’t have to fix around. I’m an adult in case you haven’t noticed. I’m certain I could have done that myself,” he said lowly.

  Maybe Thomas should have replied with something witty in return to lighten the atmosphere (though he was almost sure he would’ve failed), but he didn’t because he noticed how the blond was trying to dodge his question.

  Thomas’s expression didn’t change. “Are you okay?” he asked one more time, with more persistence this time.

  Newt was silent for a few seconds, and Thomas was afraid he had crossed the line. It was fairly obvious Newt didn’t want to talk about what had just happened, but Thomas just had to know whether Newt was all right or not.

  “Could be better,” Newt said finally. If he was being honest, Thomas was a bit surprised by the honesty.

  “Things will get better. Don’t worry,” Thomas said. “Trust me.”

  Newt snorted. “And what do you know about things getting better?”

  Thomas knew that it was a rhetorical question because he heard the mocking tone in Newt’s voice, but he was serious. “Remember how my wrist is blank?” Thomas asked.

  Newt looked up at him, not saying a word. He obviously wasn’t sure on how to reply to what Thomas had just mentioned, so Thomas continued speaking. “I thought it was the end of the world. But to be fair, I was eight.” The corners of Newt’s lips quirked upwards, making Thomas feel just slightly lighter.

  “From then on, everyone I knew and came across did nothing but pity me because my blank wrist meant that I wasn’t meeting the one who I was destined for,” Thomas said a little jokingly towards the end before he paused. The memory of people pitying him played in his head as he spoke of it. The silence filled the air calmly, before Thomas broke it again.

  “But as a few years went and as I grew older, I met friends who didn’t give a single shit about my blank wrist. And up to this day, they’re still with me by my side,” Thomas said. “So really, whatever it is you’re going through, things will get better.”

  Thomas looked up at Newt, who had been silent, and saw that he was looking at Thomas so intently he felt like the blond was burning holes on his shirt. Thomas wasn’t sure if he should have brought himself up at a point like this, but he just had to make sure Newt knew what he meant.

  “Are you saying I have to wait multiple bloody years before things do get better?” Newt asked with his eyebrows raised, his voice tinted with a hint of mockery.

  Thomas’s eyes widened slightly. “What, no! That’s not what I meant at all. That’s just my story. It’s different for everyone. It was years for me, but it could be seconds for you,” he tried to explain even though it probably wasn’t helping at all.

  Newt looked like he was going to say something else, but changed it before he spoke. “Let’s hope you’re right then. Or else I would die because I’m seriously knackered with everything that’s going on,” he said mostly to himself.

  And even though Thomas knew he should have kept his mouth closed, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is it, um, okay if I ask what happened?”

  Newt’s attention snapped to him so quickly Thomas was afraid that he’d officially crossed the line. “It’s complicated,” the blond bit back. And that was the Newt Thomas had first met.

  “I’ll be here to listen,” Thomas filled in immediately.

  Newt scratched the back of his neck, which Thomas felt he was doing was in spite of annoyance towards the boy. “It’s just – you won’t get it,” he said. “Now stop bugging me about it. I’m going to bed. You should go home and get some rest too,” he continued. “It’s getting late.”

  Without waiting for Thomas’s reply, Newt started walking back to his bedroom. And at that point, Thomas started to think about how there should be a device of some sort that could keep Thomas from spewing out his words, because just exactly a second later, Thomas blurted:

  “Your sister.”

  Newt was just at the threshold of his bedroom when Thomas had blurted those two dangerous words out. He went rigid in a matter of a fraction of a second. And just by seeing how the boy had reacted at that, Thomas knew his sister was part of it. Newt turned around, his voice sounding dry when he asked, “What about my sister?”

  Thomas stammered to find the right words. “I – I heard you talking about her on the phone the other night.”

  Newt’s face was blank. “You mean when you were eavesdropping right out my door? Yes, I recall that.”

  “No, that’s exactly what I wasn’t doing, and I know you know that.” Thomas shook his head. “I just thought maybe it was about her since I heard you talking about her.”

  By the exhausted expression plastered on the blond’s face, Thomas knew Newt was tired of fighting Thomas off. And his strained voice when he spoke again just confirmed Thomas’s thought. “Look, why do you even want to know about what happened when you’re not even related?” he asked. “Do I even have to bloody mention that we don’t know each other at all?”

  “I wouldn’t say that we don’t know each other _at all_ ,” Thomas mumbled under his breath.

  “Thomas.”

  “Okay, fine!” Thomas threw his hands in the air, unable to hold himself back. “Seeing someone break down in front of me like that just – it made me real bad, all right? I just wanted to see if there was something I could do to help you,” he said, his voice getting quieter towards the end. “Anything at all.”

  Newt laughed drily, which Thomas wasn’t expecting. “You mean you see me like a pity case? You do know by feeling that way, it doesn’t make you any different from the people who pitied you for blank wrist, right?” he said so bitterly that Thomas almost flinched.

  Thomas didn’t know what to say because he was right. “Please, Newt. Just. Just let me help,” he said. “I’m doing this for Brenda too because she looked ridiculously sad when she saw you in that state, which further made Teresa sad. So why don’t we stop the chain there?”

  Newt closed his eyes. He released a huff of air and started massaging his temples. “You’re right. It’s about my sister,” he said, looking at Thomas again.

  Thomas didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to interrupt or comment on anything Newt was saying until he was over telling his story. Instead, he nodded and prompted for him to go on.

  Newt brought a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Her name’s Em, short for Emily. We both naturally stayed together in the orphanage. You won’t believe it, but she’s the sweetest kid ever.” Thomas noticed Newt smile ever so softly when he started talking about her.

  “Em has always been a lovely and generous kid; smiling everywhere in the place; and offering whatever she had left of her toys for those who wanted to play with them. I’ve never come across someone who didn’t like her,” he continued.

  Thomas tilted his head. “Then what’s wrong?” he asked, unable to keep his question to himself any further.

  Newt looked down and ran a hand through his hair, stress starting to seep inside his body just as easily as his tears had flowed out earlier. He stayed silent for a second, gathering the right words together before continuing, “When Brenda and I left and started to fend for ourselves, I was going to take Em with me so that we could finally live out of that prison together,” he said as a salty smile rested on his lips. “But the owner of the place, this muppet called Ava Paige, won’t let me have her. Not yet at least.”

  “What?”

  Newt shrugged. “Said I wasn’t ready to take care of both of us. A writer doesn’t normally earn much. Sure I can earn a bit from submitting articles for some local newspapers, but it’s never enough for both of us.”

  “At least that’s what Ava thinks,” Newt continued, “I’ve calculated all of my expenses, and I can prove to her that I am actually capable of paying for both of our expenses.” He laughed bitterly. “I just need to earn a little more cash, maybe get some help from the government, then I can send her back to school.”

  Thomas didn’t know how to react to everything he’d just been told. He took a step towards the blond. “Newt…,” Thomas started to say.

  Newt was looking away, but turned to look at Thomas hesitantly, not wanting the boy to see how weak he actually was. Thomas almost wanted to take him in his arms when he saw the blond’s glassy eyes, tears stinging the back of his eyes as they threatened to fall. “I want to say a few things,” Thomas said softly.

  Newt didn’t respond and looked down at his hands.

  Thomas drew in a breath before he started speaking, “First of all, I’m sorry if whatever I’m about to say is complete and utter bullshit. I know you know me as the social butterfly or whatever, but I’m _really_ terrible at comforting people. I just want you to know that you are not alone, okay? I know we barely know each other, and I’m pretty sure I made the worst first impression on you in the history of first impressions.” Thomas cringed.

  “But whether you like it or not, Minho, Tes and I will be sticking around for a while given the fact that your best friend’s soulmate is my best friend,” Thomas pointed out. “We’re your friends now, and we’re always going to be happy to talk to you whenever you need us,” Thomas finished off.

  Newt looked up at Thomas, unsure whether he should believe everything that Thomas had just said, but he nodded his head nonetheless. “All right,” Newt said.

  Thomas wasn’t completely done, though. “This is going to sound completely ridiculous, but I want to help you,” Thomas said. “To get your sister back from Ava, I mean. I don’t think it’s impossible. It can be like, mission get-Em-back-from-the-evil-queen.”

  At this point, Newt truly thought whatever was coming out of Thomas’s mouth was garbage. Thomas didn’t need to ask to know that that was Newt was thinking. Newt shook his head, a chuckle involuntarily escaping his lips. “You’ve gone mad, haven't you?” He shot an eyebrow at Thomas. “How will you even be able to do that?”

  Thomas deflated for a second. “Um….”

  “Sounds like a splendid plan.”

  Thomas looked away in shame for a moment. “I promise I’ll come up with something,” he said. “We’re going to get her back, trust me.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Newt rolled his eyes, not believing an ounce of what Thomas was saying. It almost hurt Thomas, but he had the right not to believe him. Thomas _did_ sound a little crazy.

  And as if in on cue, the door behind Thomas opened. Newt looked behind him, and Thomas followed his gaze.

  “Hey, guys,” Brenda said, a little out of breath, which Thomas guessed was because of the stairs. It did take a little bit of getting used to. “We got you painkillers for your head,” she said to Newt as she reached into the plastic bag that was hanging on her arm before tossing a pack of pills into Newt’s arms.

  Newt caught it swiftly and raised it in the air in gratitude. “Thanks.”

  Brenda turned her neck around, and it was only then when Thomas noticed how tired she actually was. In fact, all of them were. Having been on their feet the whole day, the energy seemed to have been drained out of them. Every last drop.

  Thomas turned to Teresa, catching her attention. “I think it’s time for Tes and I to go,” he said to Newt and Brenda. “It’s sort of late and we’ve still got stuff to do tomorrow.”

  This was followed by a small yawn escaping Teresa. “Yeah, I still have classes tomorrow,” she confirmed.

  Newt looked away for a second as his lips thinned. He was ashamed for them to have seen him in that state, Thomas knew it, but he didn’t speak a word about it. “Yes, of course.” He nodded, before very quietly adding, “Thank you.”

  The edge of Thomas’s lips twitched upwards, and he turned to Teresa in time to see her smiling softly at the boy too. “Call us if you need anything,” Teresa said, mostly to Newt. “Really. We’re just right out there,” she said, pointing towards the door.

  Newt managed a small but genuine smile in return.

  Teresa and Thomas started to walk their way out the door. Newt was behind the both of them, walking them out of the place. Teresa was ahead of Thomas, and had stepped out of the door already before Thomas stopped and turned around to face Newt, startling him slightly by his sudden stop of movement.

  “I promise I’m going to do all I can to help,” Thomas said firmly. “Trust me, okay?”

  Newt chuckled even though his voice sounded strained. He was tired too, Thomas could tell, but he still found it in himself to reply. “Whatever you say.”

  Thomas knew Newt clearly thought that whatever he was saying was a joke. Thomas slightly twitched at the thought.

  “Really. I’m going to find a way,” Thomas said so seriously that the smile on Newt’s face faltered. Newt didn’t reply instantly, and for the millionth time that night, Thomas was afraid that he’d said something wrong again. But he wouldn’t know, because all Newt replied with was:

  “Goodnight, Thomas.”

  Thomas watched as Newt gently closed the door on him. He heard the lock clicking from the either side before he sighed. He turned his back on the door and walked back to his apartment.

  When he stepped in, he noticed that everyone had left the apartment already, and that all that were lying around were some pieces of trash. He was relieved. Thomas spotted Minho passed out on the couch, and walked over to the light switch to dim the lights for him.

  Teresa had probably crashed in bed too, and so he did the same. He walked into his bedroom and slumped on his bed. He was exhausted, sure, but he found that he couldn’t bring himself to go to sleep. He made a promise that he was going to help Newt. Maybe it was a mistake, because, god, he didn’t know how he was going to pull it off.

  Knowing that he wasn’t going to be passing out anytime soon, he sat back up and grabbed a piece of paper from the his study table. He dragged open the small drawer beside him and rummaged through it before he found an old blue ink pen just lying around. He grabbed the paper and the pen, and started writing whatever he could think of which could possibly help Newt. Bad or good, an idea was still an idea no matter what. So, he started recklessly throwing his thoughts onto the paper.

  From all the days Thomas had known him, Newt had always hid behind a wall of cold bricks he’d built around himself. And now that Thomas had seen those same walls crumble down as Newt cried into Brenda’s arms, it stunned him completely.

  And despite how cold he’d been to Thomas, he wanted to help Newt, because deep inside, he knew the boy was secretly just as broken as he was.

 

 


	5. Viens Avec Moi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope y'all enjoy this update as much as the last one. (I lowkey love Minho so, so much in this fic. My bubs.) Feel free to contact me should you have any questions. Or anything at all, really. I love talking to you guys mwah.
> 
> Contact: [Tumblr](http://www.newtmos.tumblr.com)

 Ever since Thomas started watching superhero cartoons when he was a little boy, he – like every other kid his age – had always wanted to have a superpower. The only thing that separated him from other children, though, was the fact that he never wanted the ability to fly nor the ability to lift extremely heavy things. All he’d wanted was the power to know. That was it. The power of knowledge.

 And he meant the actual power of knowledge. He would have been stinking rich by the age of twelve if he had a dollar every time his mom told him he could acquire his wanted power by studying. Mom. No.

 Thomas wanted to know things without having to put any effort in retrieving information. Kind of like downloading information on a computer, except with him being the receiving vessel. And that was because having knowledge about everything would help him get away with practically, well, anything.

 For starters, Thomas had always dreamt about being one of those spies he’d seen in movies who could decipher codes in a split second. Of course, with the power of knowledge, he’d be the world’s fastest decipherer (he’d imagine shaking hands with the president at one point). On the other hand, he could also die as a legend if he knew the answer to the universe, whatever that was. Science was always confusing to him.

 But the thing was, if Thomas had the power of knowledge right now, he would be able to know whether or not Newt was still in bed without having to knock on his door.

 Thomas spread out his legs in front of him. The hall wasn’t probably wide enough for his legs to be stretched out completely. But if keeping them folded meant his legs would be asleep soon, who cared?

 “Don’t fall asleep, don’t fall asleep,” Thomas directed to his legs. He didn’t expect much of a response, or any response at all in that matter. But God, if talking to his legs helped even a little bit, then whether or not he looked pathetic for talking to his legs like they were literate didn’t matter a single bit.

 Thomas had been sat beside Newt’s apartment door for quite a while. He’d initially planned to simply knock on the blond’s door and see if he was up for lunch, but right after he confidently walked up to Newt’s place, he came to realize it was a flawed plan. Thomas obviously didn’t think it through because he thought, ‘What if Newt is still sleeping and I wake him up through my knocking?’

  Thomas didn’t need the power of knowledge to know that he really didn’t want the obnoxious sound of him knocking to be the reason for Newt’s awakening. So, Thomas didn’t really have much of a choice but to sit right out of Newt’s apartment and wait until he could decide whether it was a decent time for him to talk to the boy.

 But having waited for quite some time, Thomas was starting to think whether he had been thinking straight at all when he chose to sit by Newt’s door. What if the blond decided to sleep in all afternoon? What if Newt died in his sleep a few hours back and Thomas missed the chance to save him because he decided to just sit down? Was he still even in his apartment?

 And to add to the stress, these were only a few of many questions Thomas couldn’t have the answers to without the power of knowledge.

 Thomas shifted and wriggled around from his uncomfortable position and tried to get a much more convenient posture. If anything was starting to hurt more than his now buzzing legs, it was his buttocks. Of course, Thomas knew sitting on the hardwood floor for an extended period of time meant a ridiculously aching butt sooner or later. He just kind of prayed to the gods it wouldn’t happen to him.

 Beginning to get tired of waiting, Thomas grabbed his phone, which had been laying face down on the floor beside him, and dialled a number, before pressing the phone to his ear.

“I swear to god if you start to buzz too, I will fucking cut you off,” Thomas threatened his ass, which he never thought he would ever be doing until now.

 Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Teresa picked up the phone. “Hey, Tom. What’s up?”

 “Tes, I got a question for you if you don’t mind,” Thomas started off immediately. “Do you think Newt would be awake right now?”

 “But I thought you already went over to his place earlier,” Teresa said in confusion.

 “Yeah, about that...” Thomas trailed off, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought it’d be best if I waited a little longer to make sure I didn’t interrupt him from his sleep.”

 Teresa was silenced on the other side for a second, and Thomas swore he could _feel_ her judging him over the phone. “Where are you?”

 “Currently sat beside his door in the hallway,” Thomas replied promptly as he wiggled on his butt. It certainly wasn’t the best position to be in. “It’s sort of killing my ass and legs.”

 “And you’ve just been sitting there this whole time?”

 “Perhaps.”

 “You are such a loser,” Teresa groaned.

 Thomas nodded in agreement even though she couldn’t see him. “Pretty much, yeah.”

 “Brendaaaaa!” Teresa called out, her voice sounding distant and muffled. She probably put a hand on the receiver. “Thomas has been sitting outside Newt’s apartment for a while, and wants to know whether he’s asleep or not.”

 Thomas almost cringed when those words left Teresa’s mouth. He didn’t think it would sound _that_ bad. The sound of the phone being passed onto another person went through Thomas’s ears before another person finally spoke.

 “Thomas, you’re literally starting to sound like a real stalker,” Brenda said monotonously without so much of a hello.

 Thomas brought a hand to rub his face. “I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s not even bad at all for that matter!” he defended himself. “Just spare me just this once, and tell me whether he’s already up, please?”

 “Unfortunately for you, I don’t know if he’s awake,” Brenda replied. “But for whatever reason you want to see him, just drop it and go home.”

 “I can’t just yet. I want to talk to him for a moment.”

 “Then why don’t you just knock?” Brenda asked, sounding impatient. “He could be have been up for hours for all we know since it’s noon.”

 “I can’t do that!” Thomas cried out. “What if he’s still asleep and _I_ wake him up? Outrageous.”

 “Sorry, Thomas,” Brenda said, completely done with Thomas at this point. “You’re on your own,” she said at last before hanging up.

 Still not knowing not to do, Thomas slowly took the phone away from his ear and stared at his phone with a black screen now that Brenda had hung up on him. He pondered for a second on whether or not he should just eat the frog and knock on his door.

 The thing was, Thomas really didn’t want to be the person to wake Newt up. He’d already done enough things to piss Newt off, and if interrupting the boy from his sleep was going to be added to the list of idiotic things he’d done, then it was perfectly reasonable for Thomas to be just a little reluctant to knock.

 If Thomas was looking for some sort of sign to finally get up, it was definitely his butt, which, by the way, he couldn’t feel anymore. Thomas found himself getting on his feet – huge fucking mistake.

 The blood that had been calmly settled in his legs and butt for so long started to aggressively rush down his sleeping legs. It felt like a tsunami of vibrations swimming through his nerves, and, to no surprise, had him hopping in pain whenever he took a step. Trying to ignore the pinching sensations in his legs, Thomas forcefully dragged himself towards Newt’s door. If Thomas didn’t get an Olympic gold medal after the end of this, his whole life would had been for nothing.

 Now standing in front of Newt’s door, Thomas mentally prepared himself for what was to come, whatever that was. Was he really going to do this? What if he woke up Newt and he ended up being the one to blame? On the other hand, it wouldn’t be that much of a deal now, would it?

 Realizing that all he’d been doing was wasting time, Thomas sighed.

 _‘You can do this, Thomas,’_ he thought to himself _. ‘You don’t need the power of knowledge to know your legs and ass are going to detach itself from you if were to stay any longer.’_

Thomas brought a hand on Newt’s door, and just when he was about to knock, the door to Newt’s apartment surprisingly opened.

 “Whatthefuck,” Newt spurted out of surprise as he stumbled back a few steps, clearly startled by Thomas standing right out his door.

 “Hi,” Thomas said sheepishly at the blond who was staring at him as if he was absolutely insane.

 “I thought Brenda was lying when she said you were here,” Newt said in complete disbelief. “How long have been out here?”

 Thomas shifted his weight from one leg to another, the tip of his ears blooming into a light shade of pink. “Not long,” Thomas crossed his arms, taking a defensive pose. “Maybe around thirty minutes?” Thomas said finally, the tone of his voice getting higher towards the end.

 “Bloody Christ,” Newt muttered, his voice tainted with a faint hint of annoyance. Newt closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 Thomas rocked on his feet. “I wasn’t bored or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Thomas waved his phone in front of Newt. “I played Angry Birds for a while.”

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what I was concerned about,” Newt said in the most sarcastic tone Thomas had ever heard in his life. It almost made him choke. “Look, let’s just get this over with since I still have work to do. What do you want?”

 “Yeah, of course, um.” Thomas noticed that despite all the time he’d spent waiting outside Newt’s apartment, he was ridiculous for not taking the time to practice what he was going to say. Instead, he played seven levels of Angry Birds on hard mode. What an idiot.

 But fuck it, right?

 “Doyouwannagetlunchwithme?” Thomas asked rigidly.

 Okay, so maybe Thomas was going to burn his phone later for distracting him. Just maybe.

 “What,” Newt said without it sounding one bit like a question.

 “Do you want to get lunch with me?” Thomas repeated one more time.

 Newt stared at him. “You waited half an hour out my apartment just to ask me to eat with you?” he asked slowly.

 “Yes…?” Thomas confirmed as he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he’d done anything wrong. “Why, have you eaten lunch already?” He tilted his head to the side.

 “No, I was just about to buy some takeout,” Newt said. “So as much as having lunch with you sounds entirely pleasant _,_ I’m fine, thanks.”

 “Takeout?” Thomas scrunched up his face. “Takeout’s unhealthy just in case you didn’t know yet. Just eat with me. Healthiest option.”

 Newt rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I still have work to get back to. So if you really think I’d choose to have lunch with you just because it’s supposedly a healthier choice, then you need to check yourself out.”

 “I can’t believe waited out here for thirty minutes only to have you reject me.” Thomas put the back of his hand on his forehead, acting pained. “Never have I been so hurt in my life!”

 “Bugger off, Thomas,” Newt said with a very faint look of amusement painted on his face, even if it was just for a second. “I never told you to wait here. That’s all on you,” he pointed out.

 “For your information, ordering takeout will take much longer than having lunch with me.” Newt deadpanned him as Thomas waved a finger in the air as if it would help him make his point. “Really! I’m not sure if you haven’t noticed, but we’re not exactly the definition of a super massive town. I’d say we’re all right in size at best, which means the nearest store providing delivery service is _at least_ five hundred hours away.”

 “Yes, because I’m obviously trying to order the most authentic Chinese food from China itself,” Newt replied blankly.

 “Okay, fine. Maybe like a little over an hour at most,” Thomas fixed himself. “But see what I mean? And that’s only the traveling time. They still have to prepare your food.”

 Newt considered this for a moment. Thomas could almost see gears running in Newt’s head.

 “Over an hour, Newt,” Thomas repeated spookily, wiggling his fingers in the air. “Oooh, scary.”

 “You’re a bloody loser, you know that, right?” Newt asked incredulously.

 “Teresa told me that just recently, believe it or not.” Thomas grinned at the blond. “So is that a yes?”

 “I suppose so, yes.” Newt turned away from Thomas and walked into his apartment, leaving it open for Thomas to follow him from behind. “Close the door when you come in.”

 “Yes, sir,” Thomas said with a two-finger salute.

 Thomas took a step inside the blond’s apartment, and it almost looked as if nothing at all had happened the night before. Everything was squeaky clean. There were no signs of dust nor dirt anywhere at all. What was more was that it smelt nice. Like, _really_ nice.

 “What’s that smell?” Thomas asked, stepping further into the apartment.

 Newt walked to his study table located right next to a window. “Vanilla,” Newt answered as started gathering all pieces of paper laying around together. “I can’t do work in an irksome environment, so I tend to light a candle up whenever I write.”

 “I see.” Thomas nodded in understanding. “Thanks for agreeing to eat with me, by the way. That’s cool of you.”

 Newt snorted as he disappeared into his bedroom. “Don’t think it’s because I actually want to eat with you!” Newt called out, his voice sounding just a little muffled. “I just really want to get most of my work done by today.”

 “I can see that,” Thomas said, seeing the papers Newt had gathered into one stack on the table. “Don’t worry, we really won’t take long,” he assured him.

 “How long do you reckon we’ll take?” Newt called out through his bedroom door once again. That, Thomas noticed, was most probably the first proper question Newt had for him.

 “I’m guessing around an hour? Or maybe less,” Thomas replied. “Not as long as takeout, though. I’m sure of that.”

“Fine,” Newt said, finally stepping out of his door. He had changed into a dark blue button-down shirt. Thomas wished he could gather enough confidence to tell Newt he looked nice because that was what decent human beings should do, but he didn’t, so he kept his mouth closed.

 Newt shut his bedroom door behind him and started walking towards the exit of his place and past Thomas. “Let’s go.”

 “Newt.”

 Newt swiveled around to face Thomas. He looked more annoyed than he initially was in the beginning. “Can you just get off your arse, and lead the way?” Newt asked, his eyebrow raised.

 Thomas pointed at the wallet Newt was gripping onto in one of his hands. “You can put that down. You won’t be needing it.”

 Newt looked down at the wallet in his hand Thomas had his finger pointed at, and looked back up at him. “I don’t know if you know this but food actually cost money in the real world.” Newt wiggled his fingers in the air, imitating the way Thomas had done it just a while back. “Oooh, scary.”

 Even though Newt was clearly mocking him, Thomas had to consciously force himself not to erupt into laughter. It wasn’t only the way Newt wiggled his fingers that amused him. Thomas would say that Newt’s heavy English accent also played a part.

 Instead of commenting on how funny – and possibly a little cute – he looked, Thomas gleefully walked towards the blond and said, “The food’s free if it’s home-made.”

 Newt looked confused for a second. “Explain.”

 Like the little piece of shit he was, Thomas sneakily smiled at the boy and merely gave him a pat on the back. “Come on,” he said as he walked past Newt and out of the apartment.

 Newt stared blankly at the air for a short while, unsure of how to react. What the hell was he getting himself into? Sighing, Newt stepped out of his apartment, briefly shutting the door behind him, and saw that Thomas had already disappeared into his place.

 Newt took a step inside the apartment, and immediately felt like he’d been slapped in the face with a finished colouring book. Other than the vomit of colours, the first thing Newt noticed was the random placement of furniture. There was a blue polka-dotted couch in the living room, and next to it was a purple striped armchair. In the center of the living room was a brown hardwood coffee table that strangely seemed to fit the picture as a whole. It was almost as if a rainbow had taken a dump in their apartment. It wasn’t _that_ random per se because the furniture and patterns were oddly complementary.

 Newt stayed standing right at the doorstop of the apartment, taking everything in.

 Thomas stepped out of his bedroom. Newt noticed that he’d changed out of his jeans, and into sweatpants. He’d have made a sarcastic remark on what he’d been doing in his bedroom if it weren’t for the fact Thomas had his arms stretched right in front him.

 “What are you doing?” Newt asked, his face scrunched up.

 Thomas saw Newt watching him and casually said, “I’m stretching because my muscles are cramping a little.”

 “Huh. I wonder why,” Newt replied evenly with a straight face.

 “Please. It’s not even that bad anyway,” Thomas defended himself.

 Newt rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

 To Newt’s relief, Thomas finally stopped stretching, and started guiding him into the kitchen. “So what do ya think of the place?” Thomas asked, turning back to glance at Newt. “I’m sorry if it’s a little messy. We didn’t really get the time to clean last night.”

 Newt looked away from Thomas and stayed silent.

 “It wasn’t because of you, don’t worry,” Thomas quickly added. “We just really didn’t have much time. Plus, we were exhausted, so….”

 “That explains why your apartment is messy and mine is crazy clean, when it really should be the other way around,” Newt said, sounding a little harsh, but Thomas could guess the bitterness was directed towards himself.

 Thomas frowned, turning back to face Newt. “It’s really not your fau—”

 “It’s colorful,” Newt interjected him casually, making Thomas confused, before he added, “The apartment. It’s colorful.”

 With the sudden interruption, Thomas knew Newt wanted to drop the matter, and so he did. “It was Teresa’s idea,” Thomas replied with a short shrug as they stepped into the kitchen. “I thought it was a little strange at first. I mean, _look at it._ But the more I look at it, the more I notice it’s actually pretty nice.”

 Newt nodded in agreement. “It is nice.”

 “Glad to hear you like it.” Thomas smiled at the boy. “Anyway, I know I’ve been a pain in this ass today, but there isn’t exactly food yet. We’re going to have to cook ourselves some food.”

 “ _We?_ ”

 Thomas blinked. “Who else?” Thomas asked as he walked over to the rice cooker, and opened it to check its contents. Seeing that there was still a reasonable amount of rice left, he hummed in satisfaction and closed it. “It won’t take long if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

 Newt was frozen on the spot. “No, it’s not that. I just – I don’t know how to cook. I’d really rather not do any of the cooking,” Newt tried to reason with Thomas. “I think I’ll head back….”

 Just as Newt turned around and started walking away from the kitchen, Thomas made a grab for the retreating boy’s wrist. “No, no, no.” Thomas shook his head as he lightly pulled a reluctant Newt back into the kitchen. “I didn’t get cramps for you to agree to eat lunch with me, and then leave before we even get to the part where we actually eat the food.”

 “I’m all for eating with you, but I really don’t know shit about cooking,” Newt said pointedly as if he was making an exceptionally good point.

 “I promise it won’t be difficult at all,” Thomas tried to assure a frowning Newt as he released his wrist. “All right, why don’t you start by getting the ingredients out of the fridge?”

 Newt gave the brunet a hard glare, but Thomas couldn’t help but have the corners of his mouth twitch upwards when Newt walked to the short white fridge anyway.

 “They should all be in a plastic bag,” Thomas remarked while he started doing work of his own. While Newt was rummaging through the contents of the fridge, Thomas grabbed some pans from the cupboard right above the stove. “You found it?”

 Newt returned with the plastic bag dangling in his hand. “Unfortunately,” Newt replied as he set it beside the cutting board on the counter.

 “Great.” Thomas grinned at the grim boy, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s just wash our hands and finally get started because I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” He took a step towards the sink and opened the tap.

 And almost immediately, Newt took a few steps back, almost as a defense mechanism, and refused, “You’re taking the piss, are you? I don’t need to wash my hands. I’m not going to be doing any of the cooking anyway.”

 “Newt,” Thomas started saying, “think of it this way: if you let me tell you what to do and help me cook, it’ll get the job done so much faster than if I do it on my own.”

 Newt started considering this, and Thomas already knew he had convinced him. “You’re a wanker,” Newt remarked casually before walking around Thomas and headed to the sink. His rubbed his hands under the running water and said, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

 “It’ll be fun,” Thomas said with a cheerful expression spreading across his face. He tossed Newt a small hand towel to dry his hands. From the look on Newt’s face, Thomas could only guess Newt wanted to stab him with the nearest knife he could find. “ _Really._ ”

 “Sure.” Newt rolled his eyes at Thomas. Once he was done with drying his hands, he set the hand towel aside and asked, “What do I do now?”

 Thomas thought about it for a second. “There’s a few things to do,” he said. “But I suppose you can begin with cutting the vegetables in the plastic bag over there into pieces while l cut the onions and garlic. You can start with the cauliflower.”

 Newt was still reluctant, but he grabbed the plastic bag anyway and stared at the different types of vegetables inside. There were many of which he naturally recognized. There were tomatoes, baby carrots, green beans and bell peppers. He didn’t have a hard time figuring those out.

 While Thomas started to chop the onions into small square pieces, he looked at the boy checked whether Newt had begun doing his own work.

If Thomas had chosen to become a professional scientist in the field of cookery, he’d have been famous by now because he seemed to have found the secret to not crying whenever someone were to chop onions. He didn’t really know how to put it into sophisticated words, really, but what he did know was that he had to bite his lip from smiling because of how intensely Newt was staring into the plastic bag.

 “What the fuck is a cauliflower?” Newt muttered to himself with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 “It’s looks like a small tree,” Thomas offered in amusement. “Kind of like white broccoli.”

 Newt looked at Thomas in surprise for a quick moment, not expecting for the boy to speak up, before it was washed over with equal parts of grimness and embarrassment. “I knew that,” Newt mumbled under his breath. “I just didn’t see it, is all.”

 Thomas didn’t push it any further and just moved on to chopping the garlic. But even then, he did so with a smile on his face.

 “Glad to know my ignorance entertains you,” Newt commented shortly as he glanced at Thomas for a second. Newt grabbed a free cutting board and starting chopping the white broccoli – _cauliflower_ – with a small knife.

 “Hey, at least it’s stopping me from crying,” Thomas bubbled as he finished up dicing the onions. He used the knife to move the small cut pieces of onions to one side, and started on the garlic. “Amazing antidote if you ask me.”

 Newt snorted. “You know, you could have at least cooked first before inviting me over,” he said as he moved the diced cauliflower to the side. “Would have been more practical.”

 “I guess it would,” Thomas shrugged. He turned around and grabbed a bottle of oil from the cupboard, and poured a small amount of it onto the pan. “But it’s too late now,” he said as he cupped the onions and garlic he had sliced in one hand, and slowly let them drop on the pan.

 The oil in the pan started to heat up, making the onions and garlic simmer. Newt watched as Thomas grabbed a clean silver spatula from the side, and moved the onions and garlic around for a short while before setting it down to adjust the fire on the stove.

 “Isn’t it too low now?” Newt asked after Thomas lowered the strength of the fire.

 “Nah, it’s not,” Thomas answered as he picked up the spatula again and continuously moved the pan’s contents around. “It’s big enough for it not to burn the garnish before we even put the rice and the veggies you sliced. It’s just perfect if you ask me.”

 “So I’m guessing we’re having fried rice?”

 “Yep.” Thomas’s head bobbed up and down. “This was my favourite dish when I was younger. My mom eventually taught me how to cook it myself because my obsession with her fried rice reached the point where she would literally have to cook it everyday just because I wanted it.”

 “Everyday?” Newt asked as he finished off cutting the last bit of vegetable from the plastic bag, and gathered all the cut the vegetables on one side of the cutting board. “How’d that work out?”

 “Mhm.” Thomas nodded in confirmation as put down the spatula on the side of the stove, letting the onions and garlic simmer on its own on low fire. “Never got tired of it ever even though I had it five times a week. Six times if I’m lucky,” he said, moving around Newt to get to the rice cooker.

 “Maybe that’s why you’re so fit,” Newt said before realizing what had come out of his mouth.

 Thomas grinned, perfectly happy to hear what Newt had just said. Newt _despised_ him. “Did I really just hear you call me fit?”

 A vague but noticeable rosy blush made its way up Newt’s neck. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Newt said in defense. “It’s just that the recipe seem to be full of vegetables. Stop being so full of yourself,” he mumbled darkly.

 Thomas laughed before dropping the subject completely, noticing the boy uncomfortably shifting one from the other. “Listen, can you do the cooking for a while?” he asked Newt, who visibly relaxed at the change of topic. “Just take the cutting board where you chopped up the vegetables, drop them into the pan, and poke it around with the spatula.”

 Newt looked at the pan where the onions and garlic looked to be fairly cooked. He didn’t need to be a professional to figure out that they certainly would get burnt if they stayed in there for a little longer. But still skeptical, Newt said, “I don’t know… I shouldn’t really touch any of these kitchen utensils.”

 “I would do it, trust me, but I’m a little occupied right now,” Thomas reasoned, holding up the half-filled bowl of rice and spoon he was holding in his hands. “You can do it.”

 Newt looked over at the pan again and sighed. “Fine, but it’s not my fault if this place burns the fuck down.”

 Newt took the cutting board filled the vegetables he had sliced earlier and walked towards the pan. Following the way Thomas had done it earlier, Newt cupped the vegetables in his hand and slowly let them go in the pan. He jumped in surprise when the oil burst a little.

 “Don’t worry, that happens a lot,” Thomas informed him, watching the entire process from behind.

 “Yeah, well, I wish it didn’t,” Newt said as he quickly checked to see if he’d gotten any oil on his arms. With all the vegetables in the pan already, Newt grabbed the spatula that Thomas had set down and awkwardly poked the food around.

 “Dude, you gotta relax,” Thomas advised the boy.

 Newt whipped around, glaring at Thomas. “I told you I don’t know how to bloody cook.”

 “Just do it.”

 Newt turned back around, and even though his annoyance level with Thomas was starting to spike up again, he followed his advice and tried not to act so rigidly. He tried to loosen up, and Newt didn’t know how it happened, but the next thing he knew was that there was a delicious smell coming from the food on the pan. And when Newt looked down, he saw that the vegetables were simmering in sync and were turning into a beautiful golden colour.

 “See!” Thomas exclaimed proudly as walked to stand next to Newt. “You’re doing it.”

 “I guess….” Newt continued to move around the vegetables until all sides were surely cooked.

 “To add to that, you should always make sure the food in the pan doesn’t stay too long in there or else it’s going to burn way before you even get the chance to put the rice in it,” Thomas explained. “Do you mind?” He held up the bowl of rice in one hand.

 Seeing this, Newt set the spatula down and moved to the side to give Thomas the space to stand in front of the stove again. He watched as Thomas used a large spoon to take the rice out of the bowl and into a pan.

 “This should take about a minute or two,” Thomas said as he used the spatula to repeatedly flip the rice over. “Can you prepare the plates?”

 “Sure,” Newt said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because I obviously know where it is.”

 Thomas tried to look disappointed, but he couldn’t because of the smile set on his lips. “You could have asked where it is kindly like a nice person would.”

 “Yes, I suppose, except I’m not _nice_ ,” Newt emphasized, arching an eyebrow.

 “We’ll see about that,” Thomas replied casually.

 Newt rolled his eyes at the boy’s reply. “Well? The plates?”

“They’re in the cupboard just above you.”

 While Thomas continued to make sure the food didn’t end up burning, Newt opened the cupboard. It almost took him aback to see a mountain of plates stacked one after another. “Do you have one hundred children I have yet to know of?” Newt asked incredulously as pointed at the cupboard.

 Thomas turned around to see what Newt was referring to and broke into a huge smile when he saw Newt pointing at the large stack of plates. “Those are for whenever our people come over,” Thomas explained. “You know, so we don’t have to waste a lot of those by buying plastic or paper ones, and then throwing them after being used just once.”

 “Your people?”

 “Yeah,” Thomas said. “We’re kind of like a big family of friends if you will. You’ve probably some of them in the Glade – the café? They work there with me. And Minho, too.”

 “Oh, I didn’t think I was supposed to pay attention to them,” Newt replied.

 Thomas frowned. “Maybe next time then.”

 “Perhaps,” Newt said shortly as he reached into the cupboard to get plates to use, but stopped when he noticed an odd one out. “Why is there a green plate out of all these plain ones?” Newt asked.

 “Green plate?” Thomas repeated. “Oh! That’s Minho’s plate. He likes having his own plate to use so that it’s easier to look for. Just leave it where it is. It’s his only one.”

 “No, it’s not,” Newt said as reached into the cupboard. He pulled out a blue plate, waving it in the air. “There’s another one with colour.”

 “Yeah, no. That’s actually mine,” Thomas corrected Newt as he made a grab for the vibrant blue plate in Newt’s hand. “I’m using this.”

 Newt shook his head and grabbed a plain white plate for himself. He closed the cupboard above him, and walked to Thomas. Newt passed his plate to the Thomas and watched as Thomas put down the fire and started adding a reasonable food into their plates. When Thomas was done, he took two spoons from the small container with all utensils.

 “Living room fine with you?” Thomas asked.

 Newt only shrugged in reply. Thomas took that as a yes, and led the way into the living room. He set the plates on the coffee table situated right in front of the blue couch, and moved aside some of the red cups that had been planted there the previous night.

 Satisfied now that the space was looking clearer, Thomas motioned for Newt to sit on the couch. While Newt took the liberty of sinking into the couch, Thomas turned on the television. Some reality show popped up, or was it a comedy show? Thomas didn’t really care if he was being honest, so he kept the volume low. When he was done, Thomas sat down next to Newt, and bent over to grab the plates he’d just set down on the table.

 “Bon appétit,” Thomas cheered as he handed Newt his plate. Newt accepted the plate from Thomas with a nod. “You are going to love this so much, let me tell you,” Thomas said enthusiastically, waiting for Newt to take his first bite.

 Newt took a spoonful of steaming fried rice in this plate, but just when he was about taste it, he put the spoon down when he felt the intensity of Thomas’s stare. “Stop looking at me like I’m a gazelle! It’s weird and I can’t eat,” Newt complained.

 “All right, all right! I’m sorry,” Thomas apologized as he set his own plate on his lap and covered his eyes with both of his hands. Strangely enough, this calmed Newt even if it was a just for a little bit. “Now, go try it.”

 “Thank you for once,” Newt said. He took the spoon and raised it to his mouth, but Thomas peeking through his fingers didn’t go unnoticed. “Thomas!” he scolded.

 “Oh my god, just eat it,” Thomas persisted, closing the gaps in his fingers once again. “Go on!”

 With Thomas’s hands completely over his own eyes now, Newt quickly took a bite from his spoon before the brunet could peek at him again.

 And right then and there, Newt swore every taste bud in his mouth had an explosion of goodness. Even though Thomas had cooked what Newt thought was quite a lot of onions and garlic, the fried rice was still massively flavorful and zesty. The seasoning Thomas had added towards the end was just right, making the rice taste lighter than it already did. What surprised Newt the most, though, was that the vegetables were strangely not bitter at all. Instead, they were chewy and rich in flavor. It almost tasted heaven-sent.

 Thomas peeked through his fingers once again. “Well?”

 “I’m not going to lie,” Newt said after swallowing his food. “This is nice.”

 “See!” Thomas exploded, pointing at Newt enthusiastically. “Told you it would be good. It’s my mom’s recipe never fails to impress,” he boasted.

 “My compliments to her for teaching you how to make this,” Newt said as he took another spoonful of fried rice. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

 “Why don’t you add that to the list of things you now know about me?” Thomas said before he took a bite from his own blue plate.

 With his mouth full, Newt didn’t reply to Thomas’s comment. Instead, they both continued to eat in silence. Thomas thought it would be at least a little bit awkward, but strangely enough, it wasn’t. They both just took their time to enjoy the food they were consuming. The sound of the show playing on the television filled in the silence perfectly. It was almost calming.

 “Thomas?” Newt finally spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

 “Hm?”

 “Why?” Newt asked before continuing, “Why invite me over? What’s the point?”

 The question had been burning inside Newt ever since Thomas told him to eat with him for lunch, and he wanted his answers.

 Thomas placed his plate down on the table and thought about it for a moment. “It might seem a little crazy, but it’s actually to, um, help get your sister back.”

 “That’s rubbish,” Newt replied instantly as he set his own plate down on the table. He didn’t believe an ounce of what Thomas was saying. “You really think your mum’s special fried rice is going to make everything better?”

 “No, of course not,” Thomas said, trying not sound offended by the comment about his mom’s recipe because he probably didn’t mean it. Or at least he hoped. “Don’t jump into conclusions just yet and hear me out, okay?”

 Newt was starting to grow annoyed. “I’m waiting.”

 Thomas looked away from the Newt’s hard gaze, trying to think of how to phrase his words. A few seconds passed before Thomas mustered up all the confidence he could and just went for it. “What do you fry before the vegetables?”

 “ _What?_ ”

 “Look, just – just trust me on this one and answer me,” Thomas said to Newt, who looked incredulous. “Please?”

 Newt brought a hand to massage his temples to keep away what he predicted was a migraine. He’d been having pretty wild days recently, and now Thomas was giving him with this load of bullshit. But seeing as there was no arguing against the brunet, he let it slide.

 “Um, I’m not certain” Newt pondered, turning back quickly to look at the open kitchen.

 Thomas bumped his knee into Newt’s own. “No cheating!”

 Newt rolled his eyes. “I think it was onions, I don’t know,” Newt guessed reluctantly. “Thomas, in what world is this related to Em?”

 Thomas brightened up the blond’s correct guess, and completely ignored the latter question. “Yes, you’re right! Don’t forget about the garlic, though. It’s just as important,” he supplied afterwards. “Okay, let’s have just a few more questions.”

 “Jesus Christ.”

 “How long do you cook the vegetables for before adding the rice on the pan?” Thomas asked, facing Newt directly. “Come on, you should know this. You were the one who cooked the vegetables.”

 “I’m not sure,” Newt sighed. “I guess around five minutes,” he guessed once more. Who kept in mind how long they cooked their food anyway?

 “Oh, that’s good, but eight minutes would have made the food more tasty. Keep that in mind the next time you cook using this recipe,” Thomas said.

 Newt didn’t know what he couldn’t believe more: the fact that Thomas ever thought that Newt was coming back to any kitchen ever, or other fact that Thomas was pondering about another question to ask him. “Next question….”

 “Can we stop doing this now?” Newt asked. He liked it much more when it was silent and they were both just enjoying the food. “I still don’t see the point of this.”

 “Just one more!” Thomas said over Newt’s voice.

 “Fine, fine.” Newt waved him in annoyance. “ _Just one more_ ,” he repeated in emphasis.

 Hearing this, Thomas decided long and hard to think about the next question. And when a smile started to spread across Thomas’s face, Newt was almost scared of what was to come out of his mouth next. “What is cauliflower?”

 “Really, Thomas? Really?” Newt deadpanned the grinning boy.

 “Well?” Thomas asked expectantly.

 “Broccoli that look like they haven’t seen the sun at all in their lifetime,” Newt replied drily, finally tired of what the brunet was doing, not that he wasn’t already done with him before.

 “Eh, I guess you could say that,” Thomas accepted his answer. “Cauliflower and broccoli aren’t in the same family of vegetables, though, so I wouldn’t classif–”

 “Thomas. _Stop_.” Newt demanded, sick of not knowing what Thomas was playing at. “What are you doing? You said it was something about Em, and then go off to have some sort of cookery trivia with me. What the hell?” Newt threw his hands in the air.

 Thomas looked at Newt and gave in. “You mentioned last night that one problem you’re facing has got something to do finance and all.” Newt flinched, but Thomas went on. “Well, by using this recipe, you’ll save so much more than having to buy takeout on a regular basis. It’s just vegetables, rice, and seasoning.”

 “By just cooking home-made food alone and ditching the lifestyle of buying food from outside entirely can help save you a reasonable amount of money. Healthy, easy, and most importantly, inexpensive.” Thomas shrugged.

 Newt stayed silent for a moment, thinking of what Thomas had just said over. Surprising enough for him, that seemed to make plenty of sense; the fried rice they’d just cook _did_ just take a little time to make, and it _did_ seem like a relatively cheaper option.

 “So you’re saying that teaching me how to become a professional cook is the master plan you talked about last night on helping me get Em back?” Newt asked sarcastically even though he was endeared by Thomas’s effort.

 Thomas couldn’t help but laugh at Newt’s comment. “Dear god, no,” he said between his laughter. “As shocking as it might be, my devious plan is actually much bigger than just teaching you how to cook smartly. That was just the first lesson, you see,” Thomas boasted as if he were a genius.

 “Lesson?” Newt arched an eyebrow at the boy.

 Thomas grinned. “You’ll see. I spent all night coming up with it.”

 Everything that was coming out of Newt’s mouth seemed to be strictly questions because once again, he asked, “All night?”

 “Don’t worry.” Thomas shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Only took a few hours or so to get everything down.”

 Newt gazed at Thomas for a moment, not certain of what to say next. “Thank you.”

 “Don’t thank me just yet,” Thomas refused to take the comment of gratitude. “Thank me when you have your sister back. But honestly, though, I almost certain my plan will work because I pretty much made it a fail-proof plan. I’m pretty amazing like that.”

 “You mean invincible?” Newt asked.

 “Yeah, that. Whatever.” Thomas waved him off. “I already have Teresa correcting and fixing my grammar and words for me. I don’t need an actual professional who writes for a living do it.”

 The corner of Newt’s lip quirked upwards into a smug smile, and seeing that alone made Thomas smile. “No promises,” Newt said, his tone edge with just a hint of playfulness.

 “Thanks.” Thomas rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless. They kept quiet for just a while, indulging themselves in the peace of silence, before spoke up, “Just one more thing….”

 Newt looked at Thomas. “What now?”

 “I know that this is a completely confidential issue, and I’m going to sound like the world’s biggest dick in the world after this, but–” Thomas paused, biting his lip. He could still save himself. Just _not_ go for it. But god, it was going to burn inside him if he didn’t ask, and so he went on, “–is it all right if I tell Minho and Teresa about it? About Emma?”

 The look on Newt’s face instantly dropped, and Thomas didn’t know if he’d hit a nerve, but he was guessing that he probably did because Newt didn’t as light as he did just a few moments before.

 “It’s just – I think they can help you,” Thomas tried to reason with Newt. “They care about you, you know? I mean, you already know that about Teresa, I’m sure. But Minho; when we woke up this morning, he asked me if you were all right and well after what had happened last night.”

 Newt’s hard gaze softened. He looked away from Thomas, thinking of what he was supposed to do. Newt didn’t really know what to say next. Hell, he never knew what to do in situations like this.

 And as if the universe had planned for all of this to happen, the door to the apartment opened. Minho entered the room. He had a backpack bouncing on his back, as well as a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his face.

 Minho didn’t normally wear glasses. Said something about it making his head hurt. But he needed them in class sometimes to be able to read whatever the professor was writing on the board.

 “Hey, Min!” Thomas turned around and greeted Minho, who adjusted his glasses with the tip of his knuckle.

 “Hiya,” Minho greeted Thomas back before his eyes landed on the blond. “Oh, Newt, hey. You’re here too.” Minho grinned as he pointed out the obvious.

 “Hey.” Newt waved a hand.

 Minho approached the two in the living room and spotted the plates of food set on the coffee table. “Oh, sweet!” he marveled. “Been a while since ya cooked fried rice. Man, I was really starting to miss this,” Minho said, shaking his head.

 Thomas laughed. “It’s fine. I made enough to last until dinner.”

 “You’re too nice, Tomkin,” Minho gushed mockingly at the boy.

 Newt turned to face Thomas with an eyebrow raised when the nickname was escaped Minho’s mouth. Thomas glared at Minho, who did nothing but grin sweetly at him.

 “Well,” Newt started saying as he stood up from the couch. “As much as this has been incredibly entertaining, I really have to get going. My work had been left untouched for far too long.”

 “Aw, that’s too bad,” Minho told Newt from the kitchen. “Stop by next time when I’m here, yeah?”

 Newt nodded in Minho’s direction. “Sure.”

 Minho smiled at Newt before turning away to get himself some of the food they had just cooked. Thomas took the chance to stand up next and walk Newt to the door. They stepped out of the apartment as Newt turned around, facing Thomas.

 “Look, I know I might have been a little of an asshole today,” Newt said, “but thank you for teaching me how to cook and stuff. I really appreciate that.”

 “And you said you weren’t nice.” Thomas snorted.

 “Whatever, I’m far from done with you,” Newt remarked. “Anyway, do you have a piece of paper and pen?”

 Thomas nodded. “Yeah, I got some inside. Hold on a sec.”

 Newt watched as Thomas disappeared back into his apartment. He rocked on his feet, waiting for the brunet to return. Luckily, it wasn’t long before Thomas stepped back out a small slip of paper and pen in one hand, and the plate Newt had left inside in the other.

 “I got you your food too,” Thomas said, motioning towards the plate. “You didn’t get to finish it.”

 “You didn’t have to get that,” Newt said as he took the slip of paper and pen from Thomas’s hand. “Could have just given it Minho.”

 “Nah, there’s plenty to go ‘round,” Thomas said with a wave of a hand. “Plus, you helped cook this. There’s no way I’m not letting you have your own share of my mom’s oh-s-amazing fried rice.”

 Newt rolled his eyes in reply to the brunet. He walked to the side of the hallway and used the wall as a base to write on. When he was done scribbling on it, Newt took the slip of paper and handed it back to Thomas.

 “It’s my number,” Newt said. “So you don’t have to sit on your ass for thirty minutes or come to my place unannounced should you ever wish to reach me again. Seriously, Thomas, just text me or something.”

 Thomas accepted the slip of paper from Newt, and handed him the plate in return. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

 “All right. Guess this is it then. Goodbye, Thomas,” Newt said finally before turning around to walk across the hall.

 “Bye, Newt!”

 Thomas watched the blond disappear into his place before he walked back into his own apartment and shut the door behind him. In the living room, he noticed that Minho had switched from whatever channel they were watching into Animal Planet. Ah yes, of course.

 Thomas hopped over into the living room and gleefully joined Minho on the couch, grabbing his own plate that was still set on the table.

 “He okay now?” Minho asked, and Thomas knew he was talking about Newt. He didn’t know for sure if Newt was okay. And from the looks of it, he could only guess.

 “Yeah, I think he is,” Thomas replied with a nod.

 “Hm, that’s good for him,” Minho hummed in satisfaction before getting immersed in watching the show. Thomas couldn’t help but hear a lot of strange noises were coming from the television.

 Deciding that this moment had to be shared with someone, Thomas grabbed his phone from his pocket, and typed the number Newt had written on the slip of paper, before moving on to typing the actual message.

  _‘Minho’s watching a show on the different mating calls of whales.’_

 Thomas’s hand hovered over the send button for a seconds, unsure of whether or not he should send this meaningless text. He did it anyway because what the hell, he needed someone to talk about the screeching whale noises. What he didn’t expect, though, was a reply just a few minutes later.

  _‘Interesting.’_

 Thomas smiled into the phone. He swore he could almost hear Newt’s voice and the sarcasm that always came along with it. It was like a package. Thomas replied, _‘Not as interesting as the fact that he’s trying to imitate one right now.’_

 Thomas held onto his phone, waiting for Newt to reply. It came sooner or later.

  _‘You don’t think I can hear him, do you?’_

 Thomas laughed out loud at the text. He grabbed a small pillow located at corner of the couch and chucked it in Minho’s direction. “Dude, shut up,” Thomas said. “Newt can hear you from his place.”

 “Please.” Minho rolled his eyes. “Instead of telling me to stop, you should be practicing this with me in case you wanted to pull one on Newt.”

 Thomas almost kicked him in the face, but luckily for Minho, his phone buzzed in time before he was given the chance to do so. Thomas flipped Minho off before looking at his phone to see he’d received another message from Newt.

  _‘You can tell him.’_

And one second later, it buzzed again. Thomas clicked on the new message.

_‘And Teresa too.’_

 Thomas couldn’t help but smile.

 

***          *            ***

 

 It was finally night time. Newt was proud to say that he’d finished most of his work in time. He’d raced against the setting sun earlier, trying to finish his writing goal before the last glimpse of sunlight slipped away. And now, he was taking a relaxing stroll around the town with Brenda.

 The night was dimly lit by the orange streetlamps standing on each side of the side walk. It was a little breezy that night, so Newt had worn his dark green coat.

 Brenda had been talking for quite a while, but he wasn’t sure of what she had been going on about. He did know, however, that she talked about how her day was in class. It was something about it being fun. Or was it boring? Newt didn’t really know if he was being completely honest. He couldn’t bring himself pay attention. What he did know, though, that she talked about Teresa for a good bit.

 It was the heavy weight of Brenda’s expectant gaze that snapped Newt back into reality.

 “So? What do you think?” Brenda asked as she slipped her hands into her pockets to protect them from the cool air.

 Newt, completely bullshitting it, guessed, “Yes?” He could only hope that whatever Brenda had asked him was a yes or no question because boy, was he going to get it if it wasn’t. Unfortunately for him, his answer was obviously not what Brenda wanted seeing as Brenda was squinting at him.

 “You didn’t listen to anything I was saying, did you?” Brenda asked.

 “Hey, I’m not that terrible of a person. I just lost you somewhere.” Newt thought about it for a second. “Somewhere about your professor being mean I think.”

 Brenda looked scandalized, her mouth wide open as she stared at Newt in disbelief. “That was fifteen minutes ago!” Brenda rolled her hand into a fist and punched him on the shoulder.

 “It could have been an hour!” Newt cried out, rubbing where Brenda had just hit him. “Better than nothing, right?”

 Brenda shook her fist in the air, trying to stop it from stinging. “Why are you off today anyway? Is it Ava?”

 Newt sighed, craning his head back to look at the starlit sky. “A little bit of her, a little bit of everything else. There’s a lot of things has been happening lately, it’s giving me a massive headache.”

 “I’m sorry for hitting you,” Brenda apologized sincerely. “But don’t think I won’t throw you into a pack of wolves the next time you ignore me.”

 Newt snorted, turning to face his best friend. “Please do feel free to do just that. It might as well knock me back into my senses,” he said. “I literally have no clue of what I’m doing with my life, Bren, and it’s screwing me over.”

 “What did you do today?” Brenda asked, knowing immediately that something had happened.

 Newt shrugged. “I spent most of the day writing. Nothing special, really.”

 “Had takeout again?”

 “No,” Newt replied. “Thomas invited me over to his place to have lunch together.”

 Brenda was taken aback by this. “And you said yes?”

 “To be absolutely fair, he was persistent,” Newt deadpanned her. “But nonetheless, what he cooked was surprisingly nice, so that makes up for it.”

 Brenda snorted, facing Newt with an amused smile. “I didn’t expect that.”

 “Yeah, me too.”

 They walked side by side in silent for a while. Strolling through the streets at night was an exceptionally calming thing to do, and Newt loved doing it, be it on his own or with Brenda by his side. It was always quiet and peaceful. But god, tonight was different, and it bothered him. His thoughts were screaming at him in his own head. How did that even work? Newt kept his mouth shut for a few seconds before, before he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t say anything.

 “Thomas knows about Emma,” Newt said suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence that the night had to offer. But with all the jumbled thoughts running around in his head, it was never peaceful to begin with.

 Brenda’s head snapped to Newt’s direction. “What are you talking about?”

 “And I told him he could tell Teresa and Minho,” Newt added, unable to stop himself from speaking. Newt wasn’t sure how Brenda was going to react, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out.

 But instead of telling him how wrong he was, Brenda just replied with, “Newt….”

 Newt almost wanted for Brenda to lash out at him, tell him to go back and tell Thomas to keep his mouth shut and fix everything. “Do you think I made a mistake?” he asked softly, whispering into the night.

 Brenda looked away, sighing. “No, it’s not that,” Brenda said, looking down at her feet as she thought of what to say next, before looking back up at Newt. “They seem like a good bunch, I get it. But you still have to be careful about who you decide to share these things to.”

 Newt nodded. “I know.”

 Newt agreed about Thomas, Minho and Teresa seeming like a good group of people to be with, but that didn’t help his jumbled head at all. He was still doubting about whether what he did was right or not. Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Dear god, what had he done?


End file.
